


By Choice

by DustToDust



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Extremely Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Mind Manipulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-25 14:15:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 46,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2624813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustToDust/pseuds/DustToDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian hasn't been a PI all that long, but he's already got himself a reputation for solving the really hard cases. It's a rep that keeps work coming, but sometimes he wonders if he shouldn't regret it a bit more than he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://imagineruvik.tumblr.com/post/102300630678/imagine-a-18-year-old-ruben-ruvik-wearing-his-neat) post where Seb is a PI and Ruben goes to him to find the arsonists. This bitch isn't done yet though. It keeps kind of growing on me. The first few parts are solid now at least.

"The good thing about changing careers," Joseph remarks unnecessarily as he looms over Sebastian’s shoulder and _creepily_ watches him fight with the expense sheets, "is you can’t afford to feed more than one vice at a time now."

"Fuck off, Joseph," Sebastian grunts and pushes back from his desk hard enough to roll over one of the man’s shoes before going back to trying to figure out where the hell two grand in profit disappeared to. It sure as fuck didn’t go to whiskey or cigarettes despite Joseph’s dry remarks.

It’s a common and often repeated line from the younger man, and Sebastian has gotten used to hearing it. It’s still a kick in the gut knowing how badly he’d scared his former partner with the drinking. It’d never effected his work and he never went in with so much as a whiff of it on him, but Joseph had never seen it as a thing Sebastian did off duty. Mostly because he was the one who always seemed to find his sorry ass in the bars after Myra, or stumbling down the streets trying to get home.

It wasn’t too surprising when Joseph confessed how very far he’d been willing to go to try and ‘save’ him from it before Sebastian had gotten fed up of being stonewalled at the precinct and called it quits with them. Hell, if he’d stayed on a few more weeks having IA called down on him by his own partner probably would’ve ended up with the same results. Sebastian out of the precinct and being forced to confront all the shit in his life stone cold sober.

"Don’t you have something better to do with your day off?" Sebastian finds a good chunk of the money and nearly groans. Kidman. Of course he’s paying her, the work she does is top notch and her filing system actually makes sense unlike the last college kid he tried hiring to help around the office. All electronic files with no paper back up at all. Which would theoretically be fine if Sebastian didn’t have an on/off relationship with the power company that was almost permanently in an off phase at the beginning of his business. "A life to live? Socks to iron?"

"A partner to check on and risk getting fired, or worse, for bringing him highly sensitive information?" Joseph answers and circles around to sit in the seat in front of the desk. One gloved finger tapping pointedly on the closed manila folder that Sebastian is itching to start chasing down. There’s names and addresses in it and it’s the best lead he’s seen yet for finishing Myra’s case, but he’s going to have to sit on it for a while if he doesn’t want to get Joseph in hot water.

It's not buddies to get Joseph into this shit. Plus it'd lose him one of his most reliable informants, and a good chunk of money to boot because like hell he'd let Joseph just hang in the wind with no job. Which would be a problem as he's having a hard enough time with just Kidman on his payroll.

"Bullshit," Sebastian finds the rest of the money in the unlabeled category of ‘bribes’ as usual, and tries not to remember how much of that was just wasted on bad leads this month as he sets the sheets aside. He’s made enough to eat and keep his relationship with the electric company going good for another month, and that’s really all he needs most days. He wasn’t expecting to make it rich when he became a PI after all. "You came to stand around and stare moodily at my secretary. Just ask her out to dinner already, Joseph. Or coffee. That’s what you hipster kind do right? Coffee and book readings?"

Joseph makes a point to adjust his ridiculously in fashion glasses --ridiculous because Sebastian knows he got the frames from his Grandpa and wore the damn things before they were considered ‘hip’-- just to be a snarky little shit without having to say anything. "Speaking of-"

"I knew it!" Sebastian crows, because he’s been calling that shit for months now and Joseph’s remained stubbornly close mouthed about it.

"Speaking of," Joseph repeats, forcefully ignoring Sebastian’s laughter with the ease of years of friendship. "Where is your secretary? Usually she’s the one riding your back to get the finances done on time."

"Something came up. Personal," Sebastian waves the questioning look away because Kidman’s good at her job but she isn’t all that forthcoming to him about her private life, and Sebastian has come to respect that. He doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t have to really. "She left me a list of things to do before going though."

With an ultimatum because Kidman’s been around just long enough to figure out how things work with him. Maybe if she sticks around a little longer he can actually start to get to know her well enough to use her _first_ name. Or at least learn why she prefers her last over her first. He’s seen her answer her own personal cell phone with a clipped ‘Kidman’ after all.

"And that was the last thing on the list?" Joseph asks with honest enough sounding curiosity that's strange to hear from him over something that's really mundane and boring. He’s dragging his feet about something, Sebastian just doesn’t know what yet.

"First. I’ve actually got a client coming in at four. Figured I’d get this done now and get going after that," Sebastian responds and looks his former partner over critically. The man’s wearing better clothes than he usually does. Joseph likes his clothing neat and fashionable, but he’s also realistic enough to know he gets into too much shit on the job to wear things that actually _are_ nice. The shoes he’s wearing were shiny before Sebastian rolled over them, and he’s been in one too many foot chases to wear shoes that’ll take a shine to work. Joseph’s dressed up nice for a reason, and it sure as hell isn’t to impress Kidman. "Are your parents in town?"

Joseph’s lips tighten just that extra little bit to let him know he’s hit it right on the head. The Odas are a great family and Joseph loves his parents dearly. He just loves them best when they’re not in his immediate living space and asking about the fifty grandbabies he apparently made a blood promise to give them when he was five.

"Should’ve made a move on Kidman earlier. Would’ve saved yourself a lot of trouble if you had a girlfriend to introduce to your parents," Sebastian says with a grin because he’s met the Odas and has seen Joseph’s tiny slip of a mom verbally beat him from one side of a room to the next over his lack of dating prospects.

"Are you serious?" Joseph snorts before reluctantly dragging himself up out of the seat. "If I so much as _mention_ a woman’s name to my mom now she’ll be sending out wedding invitations and planning nurseries by the end of the week."

"Say hi to your parents for me," Sebastian says with a grin as he starts to put his paperwork away in their proper folders so he doesn’t have to watch his coffee for sudden foul tasting and/or slightly poisonous additions.

Joseph mutters something back but he’s too far out the door for him to catch it. Probably for the best. Sebastian smirks at the now closed door and stretches. He's got about an hour to kill before his next paying client comes in. He reaches for the folder Joseph brought as a treat for getting done so early. The information is precious and Sebastian can’t ever thank Joseph enough for unbending enough about regulations to share it. His former partner doesn’t like doing this. The risk to him is huge, but he does it anyway. Usually without complaint. Sebastian knows it’s as much their friendship as the fact that Joseph sees how very little the investigators are doing with Myra’s case. 

The little they’re doing with just about _every_ missing persons case coming in now it seems. Badly and obviously enough that Joseph, while still the most reliable source he has, is no longer the only cop who comes to Sebastian's office with information. It hasn't escaped very many people's attention how the solve rate at the precinct's missing persons branch all but crashed when Sebastian took off. Something to feel proud over, he supposes, but it's hard to feel pride over something as painful as people disappearing every day in the city, and never being found.


	2. Chapter 2

He sets Joseph's papers aside when four crawls around in favor of the job. Kidman's notes are brief as ever. Slanted to the wrong side and slightly smudged meaning she was doing something when the call came in and had to use her left hand to take down the information. Which isn't much. Just a name and a very unhelpful note about finding someone.

Sebastian spends the fifteen minutes before the meeting going through the internet, and finding himself a little surprised that he actually finds something on it that looks halfway relevant. Usually Kidman or Joseph have a better chance of pulling facts from the great Google than he does.

Ruben Victoriano is a wealthy recluse according to the articles he's pulling up. Inherited the family fortune last year when his parents died in a car crash and has only been seen through his infrequent and random donations of money. 

It's more information than he was thinking he'd get when he started the search, but a lot less than he'd expected considering the man is apparently loaded. Usually that kind get a lot more attention and notice. Especially on the internet. Unless they're paying an obscene amount of money to _not_ be noticed. In which case the first few links he'd have found would be _about_ that fact. It's an interesting fact to puzzle over as he waits the last few minutes, but Sebastian doesn’t realize exactly how scarce the information on the internet is until he sees his client walk through the door.

Sebastian's first impression of Ruben Victoriano is that the man is a walking mummy, and Sebastian’s been around long enough to know why. To take in the barely seen edges of scar tissue that peek out from the ends of the bandages that cover most of his face and hands for an explanation even before the man finishes closing the door behind him.

Burns are ugly and painful, and going by the amount of bandages and the very careful set of Victoriano's body he's going to bet the man has a lot of them hidden under his clothing. Sebastian winces as he thinks about that kind of damage and then about his office. It's on the fifth floor with no working elevator. Not a problem for him or most of his clients, but Victoriano probably isn't in as good of a shape as most people. A fact that he reads in every line of the man's body when he pauses at the door after it clicks shut. Head down and breathing labored for a few almost unnoticeable seconds before he seems to gather himself enough to straighten up and turn around. Slow and just elegant enough to make most people believe he moves that way because he wants to. Not because he has to.

There's no trace of the effort that climb must have cost him when he faces Sebastian fully, and he almost admires the will that must've taken but gets sidetracked fast. The hair on the back of Sebastian’s neck stands up on end when two piercing blue eyes lock unerringly onto him. He can practically _see_ Victoriano's will in those eyes. They blaze with something that doesn't let Sebastian feel pity for him. There’s nothing hurt or worn out in that gaze and Sebastian feels uncomfortably like he’s being taken apart piece by piece by the bright eyes that look him over from across the room. Analyzing him in a matter of seconds it seems.

"Mr. Victoriano," Sebastian checks the urge to get up and roll a seat out for the man. He doesn’t think he’s the kind of guy who likes being pandered to in any way. Not with that kind of frank stare.

"Ruben, Mr. Victoriano is still my father," he says as he makes his way across the office. Slow but sure in his movements. Ruben's voice is deep and hoarse, suggesting some of the burn damage went to his lungs and throat too as he takes the client’s chair. A to-go cup is placed on his desk, and Sebastian is startled to realize he hadn't seen the man was holding two of them. At his confused look Ruben shrugs, a minimal movement that draws attention to the bandages wrapped snugly around his neck. "Ms. Kidman's suggestion."

"Right," Sebastian sighs and makes a reminder on a nearby pad of paper to yell at her for her subtle manipulation into trying to get him to update the coffee pot. It's old and the stuff comes out tasting burnt no matter what she tries. Sebastian _likes_ it that way honestly, and he likes the fact that it was free even more. If Kidman wants some frou-frou thing she can take a collection tin out and buy it herself. Joseph'd be more than willing to fuel her addiction if she bats her eyes at him enough times.

He's not going to turn down free coffee though, not from a client, and the cup is still hot when he picks it up. The liquid is just warm enough to drink but not too hot to burn, and he covers a wince at the word choice his mind went to with a healthy swig of black coffee. No sugar or cream, but a touch of something that reminds him of cinnamon.

"Thanks," the spicy flavor seems to fill his mouth and Sebastian puts the cup aside for the moment. He pulls the pad of paper closer though he won’t write much of anything down just yet. 

Out of habit he sizes up his client. Pushing past the obvious. Ruben is wearing a neat pair of slacks and a button down shirt that is at odds with the black beanie he’s wearing. The cloth of each article is neat and clean like it's brand new, or just expensive. The latter is much more likely given Ruben's financial situation. The bandages that cover most of his face and hands are clean and neat too. Not ratty from multiple uses and washings, the folds are precise too which Sebastian knows speaks either of helping hands or long experience. 

Both eyes, most of his nose, and his mouth are free. His skin is pale and smooth in those areas, and his lashes are light. He probably used to have blonde hair. The angry whorls of scar tissue start just under his lower lip and seem to curl up his covered right cheek. Most of his fingers are free of the bandages and they curl around his own cup with an ease that speaks of a lot of physical therapy. Maybe even surgery given that the skin there is so dark and thick with scar tissue it doesn't seem like they should bend at all. 

"What can I help you with, Ruben?" Sebastian asks even though he's got an inkling of what already. He kicks that inkling away though, because assuming is stupid in his line of work.

"I need you to find a person, an arsonist," Ruben says and Sebastian is not surprised as he waits for the really tricky part to come out. He’s gained himself a reputation and no one comes to him anymore with simple requests. "From nine years ago."

There it is. Sebastian taps his pen against the paper pad. Nine years is a long time, but probably not long at all for Ruben. Burns take an insane amount of time to heal, and he's heard the recovery takes even longer. That it never really ends for some people. “Go on.”

"I was ten and my sister was seventeen," Sebastian blinks at the mention of a sister, but otherwise keeps any surprise in check. He didn’t find any mention of her before. "We were playing in a barn when some men set it on fire. We were both badly wounded," Ruben sounds wry and the emotion reflects in his eyes but not his face. His face barely moves at all when he talks. Not even his lips. The muscle along his left check twitches a little, but the rest must be too painful to move. Or doesn't move anymore at all.

"I recovered. Eventually. Laura," Ruben sighs and there’s sadness and grief all rolled up in that sound. Sebastian looks down to write her name on his pad and keeps his eyes on the page until he hears Ruben draw in a deep breath. "Laura has not."

"She lived?" Sebastian cautiously asks, because tenses are always difficult things. Especially when used by family. Present tense can mean a lot of things, and it's best to err on the side of caution.

"Unconscious," Ruben says after a pause. His hard focus distant for a moment that Sebastian doesn't notice until he's looking back at him. His voice more even and devoid of the grief he'd heard in it before. "A coma, Mr. Castellanos. For the nine years it has taken me to recover as much as I have."

There’s that wryness again. Tempered with a well-worn bitterness that speaks volumes without elaboration. And Sebastian already knows the outcome of this meeting. Technically, the client is supposed to lay out everything in this meeting and Sebastian takes it all in to plan a course of action, but in reality it's Sebastian's way of deciding if he's actually going to take the client on. His way of feeling them out after they'd gone through Kidman's gauntlet of pricing and payment.

"Sebastian, if I’m to call you Ruben," he writes Sister and Fire on the paper along with a question mark as he studies Ruben more closely.

He's going to take Ruben's case, because part of him is already empathizing with the young man. There's days where he blinks and every time his eyelids close he sees the flickering of orange and red and yellow. Feels the way superheated air makes the skin on his face go tight and burn. When he can't stand the thought of smoking because the smell is too much, and the taste of ash is in everything. The part of him that settles only with a few shots of cheap whiskey cries out in understanding, and speaks loudly to take the case. It's the rest of him that's hesitating though. Making him keep assessing and reassessing Ruben. A reaction that's more about his gut than anything else.

There’s a stillness about Ruben that’s not natural and sets Sebastian’s teeth on edge. People move, people fidget. Ruben sits there perfectly still with only the slightest shifting of his chest to give away the fact that he’s even alive. People look around. Dart their gaze from person to object and never like lingering on a person even when they're talking to them. Ruben meets Sebastian’s eyes without flinching and shows no discomfort in the direct eye contact.

Alarms go off in his mind even as Sebastian realizes it’s probably extremely painful for Ruben to fidget. That staying perfectly still just might be the easiest thing for him to do. That the eye contact is probably the only way he can express himself given how much of his face is bandaged. That Sebastian’s mind, conditioned by a life time of horror movies, is casting the man in a role he’s had no choice in.

Logical explanations that settle his instinct a bit.

"I’m going to be honest," Sebastian says because he needs to be truthful here even as the bare bones of the case make him itch to jump right into it. Fire and children will never be something he can stand by and just let go. "Nine years is a long time for a crime like this. I can try but there’s a good chance that I won’t find anything after all this time."

"That’s fine," Ruben says and his lips tilt up the slightest of fractions. Higher on his left side, giving it an almost crooked look. Sebastian can see how the effort of even that pulls at the scarred skin peeking out from under the bandages. "Trying is more than has been done before."

"What about the investigation?" Sebastian asks because a case like this with a rich family should have had the police all over it. "When the police were called?"

"There was no investigation. My father," Ruben starts then sighs. He closes his eyes and Sebastian feels oddly relieved to not be the focus of them for a few brief seconds. "He was shamed by it. By what I looked like. He decided that he’d rather hide it and pretend it never happened."

"You’re shitting me," Sebastian says though it’s clear from the sudden ice in the man's eyes that Ruben isn’t. He sits back and tries to wrap his mind around that. 

It’s depressingly easy for Sebastian to accept there are fathers out there who wouldn’t care about their children being so massively hurt. Sebastian has dealt with enough pieces of garbage in his life to not be surprised anymore, but that doesn’t mean he ever understands it.

His eyes track to the right without thought to one of the filing cabinets. There’s a picture of Lily in there. In the largest folder that he adds to every week. He can’t imagine a real dad not wanting to hunt down every last person responsible for something like that. 

He can’t.

"Will you help me?" Ruben asks and Sebastian looks back at the young man who is doing what his dad should’ve done years ago. Eyes unnervingly bright and fixed because this shit should’ve already been done. Because Ruben and his sister should’ve had justice long ago.

"Yeah," Sebastian accepts because he really can’t not accept it now. "I’ll do it."


	3. Chapter 3

Ruben is long gone and Sebastian's free coffee goes cold before he drains it anyway and decides to call it a night as he grimaces over the taste of the cinnamon laced liquid that's more sludge than liquid now. Tiredness drags down at his eyelids and bends his head to his desk as he wraps up a pretty fruitless string of search queries.

News articles are slim on details of the fire and Sebastian can almost smell the money Old Man Victoriano threw around to bury this case. He shoots an email to Joseph but doesn’t expect much. The family were generous contributors to the KCPD and Sebastian already knows what a couple grand will do to the whole department.

"Corrupt backstabbing assholes," Sebastian makes note of the papers carrying the stories and leaves them on Kidman’s desk. Sometimes the physical archives will carry a lot more than the digital ones, and she’s got a way of talking her way into those places that he isn’t even going to try to mess with.

There’s not much else for him to do for the day though. Ruben's set up a meeting with the family lawyer in the morning at the estate the fire happened at. Patrick Higgins isn't family, but he's one of the few people who were physically around at the time of the fire according to Ruben and is the easiest to get a hold of on short notice. The man might know something that Sebastian can use, a short talk will let him know that. From there he can branch out into Elk River. The closest little town where rumors will hopefully still be running. Or can at least be stirred up.

He locks up the office slowly before dragging his tired body the eight blocks it takes to get him home. It's funny how a day of doing nothing but paperwork can drain him so bad. Home is a shitty little apartment he only keeps because his office is too small for a bed and he’s too old to be camping out on a cot anymore. The cupboards are filled with canned soup and instant noodles in every flavor, but it doesn’t even tempt him when he glances at it so Sebastian heads straight for the bed.

Shedding his clothes he debates on when he should get up. The Victoriano estate is an hour outside of the city. Maybe two depending on morning traffic, but only if he leaves when everyone else is getting ready for work. He's got some leeway to work with for this interview. Before leaving Ruben had made it sound like the lawyer would be available all day. Not surprising given how much money the man has, but Sebastian still wants to be there earlier rather than later.

Sebastian pulls on a clean, but well worn, pair of sweats before squinting down at his cheap alarm clock. The red number blur a bit and it takes him a few fumbling tries to work out the time and buttons. Setting it to go just before morning rush hour should do the trick. Get him up in time to get cleaned and dressed before hitting the road.

He groans as he crawls into his bed. The sheets, like his apartment, are cool. A symptom of the coming winter and he’s not looking forward to that at all.

Despite how very tired he is, sleep doesn’t come easy for Sebastian. It hasn’t for a few years now, but tonight it proves to be an even trickier bitch than usual. Unease chases his thoughts in restless circles. Ruben’s story and the few facts he’s uncovered mesh, but his instinct is still screaming at him.

There’s something wrong with the guy. Something more than just the burns and Sebastian stays awake. Restlessly turning as he wonders if he made a mistake taking the case. It was a decision motivated almost entirely by emotions which is a bad way to be thinking and he damn well knows it. 

When he does nod off his dreams are formless except for a pair of laser bright eyes watching him intently as his head fills with the electric bright light of a lightning storm without the sound of thunder to accompany it.

Sebastian wakes with a start a full hour before the alarm is set to go off. Sweating and shaking from the dream that fades into nothing as he sits up and sucks in huge lungful’s of air. His mouth tastes like copper and the remaining hints of cinnamon, and a low grade headache refuses to let him try for one more hour of sleep. 

"Fuck it," Sebastian throws the sheets off himself and wanders off to the shower to wash off the lingering sweat and soreness of a bad nights sleep.

~

The Victoriano estate looks like something out of those British crime shows Myra used to love watching. Lots of vivid green forest, rolling farm lands, and a Gothic mansion looming over him like it’s getting ready to swallow him whole. Sebastian parks next to a shiny, new SUV and gets out. Stretching a bit before pulling out the few creases that’ve settled into his trench coat before walking up the stairs to the already opening front door.

"Ruben," Sebastian greets the man who looks even more at odds out here than he did in Sebastian’s office.

The shadows around his eyes seem deeper and more like bruises than a product of the bandages. A screaming indication the man didn't have a good night of sleep either, and Sebastian can definitely empathize with that.

Ruben looks like he's wearing the exact same clothing as the day before, minus the head gear. Pressed and neat but against the opulence of the mansion Sebastian steps into it seems faded and unremarkable. Much like Ruben himself oddly enough. Only the laser focus of his eyes seems to stand out here. Sebastian hikes a thumb to the other car. “Your lawyer?”

"Yes," the door shuts with the slightest push and Sebastian fights not to tense until the man’s in front of him. Mouth tilting up in a slight smile as he walks further inside. One hand gestures --stiff armed but elegant still-- him to follow. "Mr. Higgins worked for my father before me and knows a great deal more than I do still," the last words are growled a bit more and Sebastian can tell this isn’t something the man likes, "about everything. It's taken a great deal of persuasion to get him to talk at all today."

The mansion is heated more than is comfortable and he sheds his coat as Ruben leads him through the dimly lit area. There's pictures and expensive looking furniture that Sebastian can't make the detail of as his eyes adjust too slowly from the sun's glare. A door swings open under his hand and Sebastian peers over his shoulder into a suitably grandiose dining room. It’s big enough to hold a feast for a group, but only holds the slumped figure of an older man right now.

"Unfortunately, it’s more of a," Ruben pauses and Sebastian has no problem reading the distaste he's projecting loud and clear, " _liquid_ courage that's loosened his tongue."

The smell hits Sebastian like a punch then and he grimaces at the smell of stale sweat and spilled whiskey. Like the back end of the late nights at the shittiest bars Sebastian’s had the bad luck of busting up in his days on a patrol beat. Higgins must’ve been marinating in the stuff for hours to reach this level.

Despite the bad association, Sebastian's mouth still goes a little dry at the smell of the drink. He's never considered himself an alcoholic by any means, but gut reactions to a stench like this make him doubt that assessment. Just a bit. “Shit. He even going to be coherent?”

"Maybe," Ruben turns around and Sebastian takes a quick step back as the move puts them nearly face to face. He hadn't realized he was practically on top of the other man when they stopped. "I offered a little to get his mouth moving and he took it all. Plus some."

Fantastic. Sebastian eyes the slumped form of the man and the expensive looking decanter near one lax hand. A glass tumbler lies on its side with drops of amber liquid still clinging to the insides. Sebastian has no doubt that it used to be some high end stuff too and mourns the loss privately as he steps around Ruben and into the room.

"Let me see what he has to say then," he looks back to Ruben who hasn’t moved back at all and is hovering just beyond the door. According to him Higgins has hinted at things, but held back on revealing the full details. Ruben had said the words with a barely perceptible sneer, but Sebastian can see it from the man's perspective. He's been close to the Victoriano family for a while. The tight lips may be lingering loyalty for the parents and maybe a need to protect the man who used to be a kid. 

There's something to find out. You don't get this drunk over the prospect of talking otherwise, and it's going to be something big. Something the man doesn't want to tell Ruben. Sebastian puts a hand on the door and expects a fight when he says, "I might get a bit more out of him alone if he hasn’t been spilling anything to you."

"Of course," Ruben smiles again. His smiles last for seconds before his face smooths back into a passive set that Sebastian is getting used to as his usual expression. He backs away from the door without the fight Sebastian was expecting. "I’ll be in the library upstairs. It’s on the left."

Sebastian waits for him to turn and walk away before shutting the door. Most clients want to be in on every step of a case. Especially an interview like this, but he's going to have to stop thinking about Ruben as a regular client if he keeps surprising him like this. 

His nose is already filtering the smell out when he turns and he sincerely hopes Ruben has people to clean up this room when Higgins is gone. There's no windows at all in it so airing it out is going to be a bitch. Especially if the alcohol sinks into the plush carpet laid out under the table. “All right, buddy. Let’s see if you can even remember how to talk.”

To his credit, Higgins sits up when Sebastian kicks out the chair next to him. He’s not looking straight at him though and barely seems to be aware of him at all even when Sebastian puts a hand to his shoulder to steady him.

“Mr. Higgins, I’m Detective Castellanos,” the little lie that makes his job easier rolls off his tongue and seems to get a reaction. “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

"About the. Fire," the man says in a surprisingly coherent way. His voice slurs and slides up and down in volume, but there’s enough awareness in him to talk. Now it's just a matter of finding out if he's going to talk sense or nonsense. There's no in-between with this level of drunk. "About the children, yes? You’re here to hunt the fire down."

The man breaks off with a very unmanly giggle and his eyes slide shut as he clutches the arms of the chair. The laughter seems to hurt him as one hand comes off the chair to claw at the cloth over his stomach. His suit is blue and stained through. Wrinkles creasing it hard like he's slept the night away down here, and that might explain Ruben's tiredness if he had to babysit the man. 

Sebastian's not expecting much at all now but he presses anyway. “Yeah. That. What can you tell me about it?”

"Jealousy!" Higgins gasps and his eyes snap open to focus on him. The brown of his eyes is dulled and glassy but there's an almost manic gleam to them as he leans forward. Both hands clutching the chair again as he pants like he's just run a marathon. "Jealousy set the fire and hid the children! They were always so jealous!"

Shit, Sebastian leans back as the man's breath washes over him. Sour and stale. Higgins is drunk out of his mind. “Who was jealous?”

"Ernesto," Higgins says forcefully. Giggling again before he loses all the tension holding him forward. His head slumps forward almost to his chest and lolls there as he mutters. "Jealous, jealous of flesh and blood. Of farms and land. A lesson had to be learned you know."

"Jesus Christ," the man’s making zero sense to anyone but himself. He's not going to get anything at all out of the man until he sobers up.

Sebastian stands up and looks around. After moving the decanter and glass away there isn’t much left for Higgins to hurt himself on. He really doubts the man’s got enough functioning brain cells left to try standing, and if he falls off the chair he won't be able to get up off the floor enough to be a danger. "Right. Think that’s enough for now. Let’s try this again later."

"You won’t!" Higgins laughs again. Loud and manic. "You won’t be able to!" Sebastian moves towards the door and he gets more animated. Rattling the chair as he shakes but doesn't try to get out of it. Both hands clutching the arms like they're all that's holding him down on the planet. "He locked him up! Not just for jealousy but for safety! Yours and mine and everyone’s! But he’s free! Free! God help us all...."

Sebastian shuts the door as the man hits a crying jag and sighs. He runs a hand over his head and tries not to wonder how many times _he’s_ been that drunk off his ass and crying like a baby. “Shit.”

The mansion is quiet and still as he makes his way to the stairs he saw coming in. He pulls at his tie to loosen it more, and undoes the first button of the day. He usually ends the day with three undone, but he doesn't think he'll make it out of here before that. The heat isn’t high enough to make him really sweat but he’s regretting the thick undershirt he opted for today because the temperature outside is kind of low.

Ruben apparently takes the cold a little worse than Sebastian does.

He takes the left staircase up to the second floor. Every door he passes has been left ajar, probably for Ruben’s benefit. Sebastian had done some looking up on burn victims before leaving his office the other day, just to see what he might need to expect from his client. A lot of what he found seems like the stuff of nightmares to him. It makes him wonder how Ruben, or anyone in his position, can stand to exist.

Ruben isn’t hard to find. There’s only three doors, and the one on the left opens up on an circular room filled with books. It’s the brightest room he’s been in so far with several lamps on and the curtains over what look like a set of large windows firmly closed. Ruben is at a desk in the middle of it all that’s large enough that it should probably count as a table. He’s got a thick book open on the top of it and looks completely absorbed in it. 

A medical book going by the looks of it when Sebastian gets closer. He uses one unbandaged finger and his covered thumb to carefully move and then pinch the pages before turning them over in a practiced move that looks natural.

"Higgins isn’t much help," Sebastian says as he walks further into the room. All the books he can see are large and hard covered. He identifies anatomy, medical, and psychology books in all different shades before turning back to Ruben. "He’s completely plastered and raving. Did he say anything to you before I got here?"

"No. Most of our conversation was about how he _should_ talk. I figured he wouldn’t be any help," Ruben says with a slight trace of irritation before he braces himself on the desk and stands up. "By the time I realized how much he’d drunk it was far too late to warn you."

"It’s fine," Sebastian sticks one hand into the pocket of the coat folded over his arm and feels for his pack of cigarettes. He’s craving something to offset the need to go out and get himself a drink or two. "I can still go into town and follow up on a few things. You need me to drop him off anywhere?"

Normally Sebastian wouldn’t offer, but he’s kind of worried about a man as drunk as Higgins being around Ruben. He's seen what a set of several stairs does to the man, and isn't too clear yet on how well the man may or may not be.

"No, I’ve called someone to pick him up," Ruben walks over to a side table with slow and even steps. There’s another decanter that looks like the one from downstairs on it and a set of glasses. "A brother I think. They should be here soon. Do you drink?"

"Not while I’m on the job," Sebastian says without hesitation. He never has even when he kinda feels like he should.

"Good," Ruben pours two glasses of a liquid that’s definitely not alcohol going by the pale, cloudy color. Sebastian hadn’t even seen the ice in the glass until a cube clinks against the side of one. "I don’t keep much here. Drinking doesn’t combine well with my medications, but father was a rather...appreciative drinker and there’s still a lot of his preferred drinks in reserve hiding around the place."

A drunk, Sebastian translates. The pauses in Ruben’s speech, Sebastian is learning, can communicate a lot that his face cannot. He takes the glass Ruben hands him and isn’t surprised to find it’s lemonade. Tart with just enough sugar to keep his mouth from puckering, and wonderfully cool in the heat of the mansion.

"Thanks," Sebastian tilts the glass and looks around the room again on reflex. Everything is still and quiet, and he wonders if there’s someone else somewhere he hasn’t seen yet bringing the man ice and drinks. "Do you have any place you think I should start on in town? Anyone you think may have been involved in particular?"

"No one person comes to mind," Ruben sets his glass down and leans against the desk. Tilting his head to the side as he stares at Sebastian for a few seconds. His bright gaze isn’t as unnerving. Sebastian must be getting used to it. "I’ve been rather isolated since the fire. For my protection and peace of mind. I don’t go there unless I can help it. Usually I go only to see Laura and the people ignore me."

Better than the outright staring that Sebastian knows people can do --that they probably do only to Ruben's back-- but it’s still the same shade of asshole. Sebastian feels irritated on Ruben's behalf. Stupid, but he can't help it.

"There’s a hospital there?" Sebastian asks because Elk River isn't that large of a place, and --while he's never been there himself-- he knows its streets almost by heart. Inspector Brown had official maps placed in his files with notations of incidents and body locations. The reporter, Diaz, had shitty print outs from Google Maps with almost the same notations on it too. Myra never came here during her investigation but the fact that she'd had both maps in her files had been enough for him to damn near memorize them.

"A hospice," Ruben corrects, and that makes more sense. There are two areas listed under doctor's names in the maps he knows. One must be a hospice. "The doctor is good at his job and takes very good care of her for me."

Sebastian adds the hospice to his list of places to visit. He's not really sure what he'll hope to find, but information tends to show up everywhere. He knocks back the rest of his drink fast and licks the remaining traces of sugar off the back of his teeth. The tartness lingers though as he pops another button on his shirt.

"My father used to be a large supporter of the church. Even with all of the scandals around it," Ruben remarks with obvious distaste and that catches Sebastian’s attention which the man notices as he elaborates further on it without being prompted. "They found catacombs under it with bodies. There’s rumors that they weren’t all old bodies and there was a ritualistic display. Almost cultish. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if there's some truth to it. The church is still under investigation for missing money as well."

Sebastian tugs at his tie, it’s almost completely undone now, and thinks about trying to get away with just asking for some of the ice cubes. Rumor mills. Sebastian wonders how Ruben heard them as isolated as he’s admitted to being, but rumors are like flies. They spread fast and far with no real solid way of tracking where they came from. The church gets added to his list as well. A major donor would be known there and he's still in the dark as far as the parents’ motivations and personalities. 

"I’m sure you’ve heard about the Elk River serial killer, Sebastian," Ruben makes a small noise and doesn’t frown, though his lips get a little thin like he wants to. "Do you mind if I call you Seb? It’s much easier for me to say."

"Yes," Sebastian says, the word flowing off his tongue before he even really thinks about it or which question he’s answering. Sebastian blinks and shakes his head to clear it. The heat isn’t really that bad, but combined with the cool drink he’s feeling a little drowsy and slow. "I mean, yes, I’ve heard of the case, and," Sebastian wants to say no, but Ruben’s paying him and he doesn’t doubt --for all that the man speaks seemingly fine-- the man’s being honest, "yeah you can call me that."

Myra used to call him Seb in their more playful moments, or when he’d done something particularly stupid. Joseph calls him that from time to time too. When they’re both talking about personal things they’d rather not talk about. His mother used to. He's pretty sure she had once called him that, but his memories of her are vague and faded with time. He can't be all too sure what she even sounded like anymore. 

He’s not upset by the nickname but it’s something that’s highly personal to him. He's not upset but it kind of feels like he should be and Sebastian struggles with understanding why.

Ruben smiles and it’s a bit distracting to notice how the small shift can change his face so very much. Enough to ease Sebastian away from the unsettled feeling of giving in to the request. “There’s rumors that the church were involved with that. My father wasn’t happy with the rumors and was quite loud in his defense of the church. That’s really the extent of my knowledge on the town, _Seb_.”

Sebastian doesn’t flinch back from the nickname that rolls strangely off Ruben's tongue. It’s strange beyond all reason what hearing that name does now. He feels a little frisson of cold, magnified by him being overheated, and the sensation of the ground rising up from under his feet as he falls.....

_...it hurts but it's not real pain he's feeling as he lies there, held still by things he can't see. His head buzzes and his mouth tastes like copper and the air before a lightning strike. Or maybe just after one has blinded him. Ruben turns to face him and his eyes are distant as he talks about regions and centers. His words not directed to him even as he smooths his hands over Sebastian's face. Fingers exploring and mapping out every inch of him. The coarse bandage of one thumb catching on chapped lips as he bends down to look him in the eyes. Addressing him for the first time in what feels like a long while, "Oh, Seb, I'd say I'm sorry they decided to throw you to me as a distraction, but I'm really not. You're exactly what I need right now...."_

"Are you feeling all right?" Ruben asks and Sebastian opens his eyes with a jerk. His body starts violently and his heart hammers as if he was just falling and only barely stopped himself in time. 

Sebastian sags back until his legs catch on the table and he blinks at the library. The tattered remains of a daydream passing out of his mind the longer he stands there and just breathes. Fuck, did he just fall asleep standing up, mid conversation with a client?

Ruben has moved to stand right in front of him and has a hand on his shoulder in support. His head tilted in a worried question. "Maybe you should rest a bit, Seb. You don't look well at all."

"Not enough coffee," Sebastian says quickly as he takes a long step back from Ruben and scrubs a hand over his face hard. He swallows and it's like he's been sucking on pennies all day. He immediately misses the light touch of Ruben's hand and Sebastian wonders just what the hell has gotten into him. "I’ll grab a cup or three in town when I start nosing around and be fine."

"All right. If you need anything," Ruben leaves the phrase unsaid as he waves expansively around him. He smiles and the expression seems wrong for a moment. Too light for his face. "Thank you, again, for looking into this."

"It’s my job," Sebastian shrugs the thanks off and doesn’t mention that Ruben’s paying him too. One of the first things he learned about clients is not to bring that fact up in casual conversation. Makes them feel awkward and get bitchy with him.

Well, no, Sebastian reflects as he breaks eye contact with Ruben and walks himself out of the room. That's the second thing he learned as a PI. The first thing he actually learned is not to empathize too much with his clients. Not getting weirdly attached is something he learned as a cop. Both are things that he’s broken already on this case, and that fact sits uneasily in the back of his mind as Ruben watches him leave.


	4. Chapter 4

The cool air outside is like a slap to the face, but it doesn’t do much to clear his head. He knocks out a smoke from his nearly empty pack and slides it between his lips as he walks to the car. Sebastian tosses his coat into the back seat and leaves the door open to sit for a bit. The sun’s up fully now. Higher overhead than he expected it to be and the world outside of the mansion seems blindingly bright as he squints into it. 

It doesn’t seem real though. Too light and perfect as compared to the heavy and timeless silence inside the mansion. That feels like it's wrapped around him as tight as any vest he's worn and followed him outside. 

He’s hit with the weird urge to go back in as he rubs his scalp with his fingers. The headache from the morning is back with a vengeance. It's hard to think past it actually and he thinks about the aspirin he doesn't carry in the car with him anymore because he no longer sleeps off hangovers in the back seat.

Christ but he needs _something_ to kill it before his head caves in from the pounding at his temples. Sebastian groans and actually gets back out of the car. Takes three stumbling steps towards the mansion before he even realizes what he's doing. That he's going back inside to his _client_ for _help_. Not because Ruben seems like he'd have a pretty decent supply of things to kill the pain, but simply because he's in pain and his mind thinks _Ruben_ can help.

And like a fucking switch has been flipped the pain's gone. Not fading or easing up, just flat out _gone_ like it was never there. Leaving Sebastian standing in front of the mansion and confused as hell.

"What the-" Sebastian shakes his head hard before getting back into the car and twisting the keys into the ignition to get the car going. He looks up into the rear view mirror and studies his face. He needs a shave and a good day or two of sleep, but that's nothing new for him. He doesn't look any worse than usual. “Christ, what the hell’s wrong with you Sebastian?”

Sebastian slams the car door shut and cranks the window down before peeling out of the drive. Weaving a bit as he finally manages to light up the cigarette he kept a hold of. The first hit relaxes his shoulders and he takes a deep pull of the burning tobacco. Putting distance between himself and the mansion also eases something that's clenched up in him. Hell, maybe he needs to take that vacation that Joseph's been bitching at him to take for the past two years now.

There's a lot of things he needs to do that Joseph's been getting onto him about for a while, but Sebastian isn't any more likely to do those things than he is to take a vacation. For a variety of reasons but the never ending cost of continued living is the one he'll cite to his last breath if asked.

He'll have to see a doctor once this case is over though. Hell, he might just use it as an excuse to get access to the hospice. It's a small town, they have to take regular patients on occasion.

Elk River is a good twenty minutes away going by the winding back roads he had to take to get to the estate. He twists back before he gets too far down the road and fishes out the cellphone Joseph had insisted he keep even when money started getting tight. It’s still a waste of money, but he won’t argue that it’s a useful one.

Kidman answers almost before the first ring gets started. “I won’t be able to pull those clippings until after lunch. You know the people at the Post don’t roll out of bed before noon.”

Straight to the point as usual. “Thanks Kidman, I actually wanted you to look up a few more things. See if there’s digital copies about the church at Elk River. Specifically anything dealing with cults and missing money.”

"Elk River," Kidman states flatly, and it’s obvious she’s making that bitchy face she gets when she’s thinking about lacing his coffee grounds with Borax or something else. "I thought you were following up on our _paying_ client's case."

"Our paying client is just outside of Elk River," Sebastian props his left arm out the window and keeps a close eye on the road for any spooked critters. He almost smoked a few rabbits earlier on the way in. "And has ties to both the church and a hospice there. He also has a sister that the internet never mentioned. Look up any mentions of Laura Victoriano and the hospice while you’re at it too."

"Right, anything else I can find for you?" Her tone is dry but he can hear the scratching of a pencil as she takes notes. "A better office, the winning lotto ticket, Waldo?"

"I’ll take the second," maybe he should stop encouraging Joseph to make a move. She’s got more sass than him and Sebastian ought to be more frightened of what they could possibly produce for offspring. "Let me know what you find before you go diving through back issues, alright? I’ll be in the town soon and have a look at a few places."

"Any order of importance?"

"The church," Sebastian answers immediately, because he’s not going there without having some idea of what he’s entering first. In his experience, anything involving religion tends to start off hostile immediately, and only a thorough understanding of the place or person can help with that.

"Right, I’ll get on that," Kidman says and then pauses just long enough for him to interject with anything else. "I’ll call you in a few hours."

"You do that," Sebastian tells the empty air. Efficient, straight to the point, not prone to drama. Sebastian tosses his phone into the passenger seat and reminds himself that he usually thinks those are good qualities to have.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adding tags for references to incest and abortion as I flesh out my own thoughts on the Victoriano family. Which is twisted, very dark and twisted.

The first place Sebastian hits is a worn down looking diner that probably used to be an actual home. The older woman behind the counter is named Ella and is delighted to see him. She’s way too happy to load him up with enough slightly burnt coffee to make him feel human again. She talks nonstop, and by the time he leaves he knows more than he ever wanted to know about Elk River’s dating scene. None of which is going to be helpful to him.

Hopefully.

The town is small but spread out. A series of modern and older homes wrap around Elk Lake which the town is sort of named for. Hell if that makes any sense. The town edges up all along the shore of the lake and is the sort of sleepy place that you never expect anything to happen to. A false sense of security given the rather horrible series of killings that happened not all that long ago.

That might _still_ be going on.

Myra’s files start with Elk River. They’re all inherited files from Inspector Brown who had overseen the original Elk River case, and was later expanded on by a nosy reporter named Ivan Diaz. Both men who had chased a serial killer into the abyss and never been seen again. Only their files turning up on Myra's desk to give any hint as to what they were chasing.

Brown's initial reports on the murders are scattered and filled with so many holes that Sebastian’s pretty sure the holes in the man’s case were built into it from the ground up. The detectives under him doing really shitty work or taking a hefty paycheck on the side to be as bad as they were.

It’s no wonder that the man had started working on it on his own even though his rank should have kept him in an overseer’s position. Brown’s own personal files are far more descriptive and were what had led Myra to investigate Beacon Memorial in the first place. What had led her to seeing a pattern and connecting Diaz's work with Browns to her own investigations in Krimson City before disappearing without a trace. Just her own files added on and sent to Sebastian to work out on his own.

Most of the victims of the Elk River serial killer are still John and Jane Does as far as the state is concerned. No matching prints or DNA, and no missing persons report to match. Where ever they're from, they weren't missed, and the few that did get names put to them generally had no one to miss them.

They’d showed up in groupings ranging from three to six at a time every few weeks for a year straight. Horrifically mutilated, and looking like something out of a mad slasher film. They were tortured when alive, and they were kept alive for a very long time. The killer had played with them all. Taking them apart like some sadistic kid playing doctor, and always ending with the head. Sebastian’s seen the pictures and it isn’t pretty what ended up killing those people.

It’s been close to sixteen months since any victims have been found, and official word on it is that the killer has gone to ground or is in prison. Maybe even dead. Official expectation is that the people of Elk River shouldn’t have anything to fear anymore and should go right on back to enjoying their normal lives. 

It’s bullshit, and the few people Sebastian sees know it. They watch as he drives by them with suspicious eyes. Studying him and his car as he drives. The whole town is going to hear about him before the hour is up if they haven't already. Maybe that's why Ella had been so perky and talkative when he stopped earlier. There's more than one way to sound people out after all.

The hospice is exactly where Ella told him it’d be and Sebastian pulls up just outside the homely looking building. It’s too large to be considered a house, but the setting really won’t let him think of it as anything else. A small, discrete sign is affixed next to the door and he squints as he reads it.

'Dr. Valerio Jimenez  
Hospice’

"Descriptive," Sebastian stubs out the cigarette he’s been nursing since the diner. "Might as well see who’s all home."

"Who’s home," a light voice repeats and Sebastian twists to look back at the fence he’d walked past without looking at it twice. A kid sits on the ground, back pressed against the wooden boards and stares down at his hands. "Who’s home. Whose home?"

"Hey, didn’t see you there," the kid doesn’t really look up at him, but he tilts his head enough to side eye him something fierce and Sebastian gets a good look at the kid’s face. The kid’s an albino, his skin and hair are too unnaturally pale not to be. It makes the dark bruise trailing from under his eye and across his cheekbone stand out far more though. "Ah, hell, kid. You get in a fight or something?"

"Or something," the kids looks down again nervously and starts to wring his hands a bit. Nervous and quick motions that he repeats exactly. Over and over again, in a pattern that Sebastian could probably count out if he paid close enough attention to it. "Or something, or something...."

His words trail off into an indistinct mutter and he starts to rock a bit. Sebastian checks the urge to get down on a knee and make sure the kid's alright. He’s been around Beacon Memorial enough to recognize that as a bad idea without knowing more about the kid’s issues. Issues because it’s obvious he has them.

"Leslie!" Sebastian feels a little relieved at the shout and backs up a bit as a very large man comes around the corner of the hospice. His face is flushed, and he’s breathing hard but he seems genuinely relieved to see the kid when he claps eyes on him. "Oh, thank God, there you are child. You mustn’t-" the man trails off as he sees Sebastian, and suspicion is hard on his round face. "Hello, I wasn’t aware we had visitors today."

The man walks forward enough to confront Sebastian. A position that puts him protectively in front of the boy. Leslie.

"Detective Castellanos," Sebastian says after watching Leslie for a flinch or reaction, but the boy doesn’t react. Seems to be totally comfortable and at ease in the man’s presence. He offers his hand out. "I was looking for Dr. Jimenez when I found Leslie here. Looks like he hurt himself a bit."

"Yes, I’m afraid Leslie decided to leave his room without permission and ran into one of our...more angry patients. Poor boy," the man shakes his hand and there’s not one single trace of the suspicion anymore. "And, well, _I_ am Valerio Jimenez, Detective. How can I help you?"

"Just wanted to ask a few questions. Ruben Victoriano sent me your way," sort of, but the white lie is just another play of words that tends to make these things go easier.

"Did he?" Valerio seems surprised and puzzled as he regards him. "Whatever for?"

"About the fire," Sebastian looks around. There’s no one on the streets, but it is a small town and he doesn’t like broadcasting these questions out in the open if he can help it. "How about we get Leslie inside first, doc? He doesn’t look too comfortable out here."

"Yes, yes. Let’s go inside. All of us," Valerio turns and squats down easily for a man of his size. His voice is gentle and patient as he addresses the kid. "I know it’s not time for snacks, but I have an apple juice box inside just for you. How does that sound Leslie? Come on, my boy, let’s get up. Up!"

Sebastian walks ahead and opens the door as the doctor cajoles the kid to his feet, and gets him walking with a gentle touch and more encouraging words that actually seem to be working. The Hospice looks even more homely inside. It’s quiet and tranquil for all the excitement that must’ve just happened. There’s also no sign of anyone else at all as he trails Valerio and Leslie into a room that looks like a personal office.

"Here we are," Valerio bends to a small fridge and comes back with a small box. He puts the straw in with well-practiced ease and Leslie nearly jumps for it. "There, do you feel better now, Leslie?"

"Better, better," Leslie mutters and takes a long pull from the box. He smiles a bit around the straw. "Better."

"Good, we’ll get Emma to look at that shiner you have growing and see if there’s anything else hidden from snack time, alright?" Valerio says with a fond smile. He turns to Sebastian and nods at a chair. "Please, have a seat. This won’t take me but a few minutes. We have to be sure Leslie here is settled."

"Take your time, doc," Sebastian says to his back. 

If he was still in the force he’d have sat his ass down as soon as the door clicks shut behind the man, but Sebastian isn’t actually a cop anymore. He no longer can count on a court order to make people cooperate with him, and has learned to make his first crack at them really count. To get everything he can before they figure out he’s a PI and not an actual cop.

Valerio, luckily, prefers the same filing system that Sebastian does. All hard copies neatly and alphabetically ordered in a single filing cabinet beside his desk. There's a locking system on each drawer, but none of them are actually engaged.

There’s four folders under the name Victoriano. Ernesto has nothing in it interesting. A few sheets that are just annual checkups. Beatriz has even less than that in her file. Ruben’s folder is empty with only a faint transfer of graphite on one side to suggest there was anything in it at all. The fourth folder is significantly larger than all of them.

"Laura," Sebastian flips the folder open and doesn’t bother with anything that looks too technical or unreadable. He’s got only a few minutes to see if there’s anything hidden in the paperwork that he’s not been told about.

Lists of medications and treatments related to burns. Regular assessments that look nearly identical going back nine years, and nothing that looks out of the ordinary to him with his lack of understanding what even half of the words mean. No, what looks out of the ordinary is in the papers that go back further than the fire.

The word ‘fetus’ jumps out at him and Sebastian flips between two different pages. Puzzling the highly technical terms together until he realizes he’s looking at a report on an abortion.

"What the fuck?" The dates are much earlier than the fire and he does some quick calculating and starts to feel a little sick. What the hell was a fourteen year old Laura doing pregnant? And coming into a damn _hospice_ to get the abortion done? Sebastian hasn’t seen the full extent of the equipment used here, but he’s pretty sure that this place isn’t normally equipped to do delicate operations like that. All done on the payroll of....

Sebastian flips to see the signature on the last page and he flips open Ernesto’s folder to compare the name there. It matches. Which means someone was good at forging or dear old Dad got his way too young little girl an abortion.

 _Abortions_. There’s another set of papers dated a year earlier with the same terminology, and Sebastian only gets a glance at it before he hears Valerio’s voice. “Shit.”

There’s a loud creak from the hallway, the sound of Valerio walking. Sebastian puts the folders back and sits in one of the two chairs in the office just as the door opens and Valerio comes in with a smile. “I do apologize, detective, but things can become a little hectic around here when my help becomes ill.”

"Understandable," Sebastian waits for the man to sit and shelves the questions he has about Laura’s files for the moment. "As I said, I’m looking into the fire that took place nine years ago."

"Yes, yes," Valerio’s smile droops. The man has a ridiculously expressive face, but Sebastian doesn’t let that fool him into thinking the man can’t hide anything. "You said you talked to Ruben Victoriano, right? I’m sure he’s told you as much as he can remember. I’m afraid I might not be much more help than that though. Laura has a permanent room here with us, but I’m afraid she’s never woken from that day. I can tell you how very severely she was hurt in the fire, but nothing more than that."

Valerio can tell him a lot more than that, but Sebastian wants to see how much he can get out of him now before pissing him off. “You can tell me about the family. Before the fire happened. What was going on with the Victoriano’s doc?”

"Well, the family was very wealthy. Ernesto was a philanthropist. He gave quite generously back to the community," Valerio says without a hint of deception or dishonesty. "They have always supported the hospice as well. It was upsetting to see all these disasters befall them."

"Think a barn being set on fire counts as something a bit more than a disaster, doc," Sebastian shifts in his seat and takes the time to look at the few plaques on the walls. Licenses and degrees. One framed photo of the doctor with a bunch of other people. Could be family, could be friends. "Sounds like something personal if you ask me. Now why would anyone want to harm a family of philanthropists?"

"People will be people, Detective," Valerio says with a shrug. "Ernesto was rich, yes, and sometimes that alone is enough to make people lash out."

"Jealousy," Sebastian echoes and frowns. Was that drunk bastard actually telling him something real? Following his gut on this he pushes for more. "About the land and farms?"

"I’m afraid so," Valerio says gravely and he laces his fingers together on the desk. Taking on the air of a doctor getting ready to tell someone it’s terminal and there’s no treatment. "There were a lot of people who weren’t happy when Ernesto started buying up the land. Yes, they got to stay and farm it, but it didn’t sit well that they had to rent what used to be theirs. Never mind that the bank would have owned it and charged twice as much if they went under!"

"Not very rational," Sebastian agrees when the man pauses and doesn’t seem likely to continue without a prod.

"It never is rational when men get together and decide they’ve been wronged. When all it takes is one very loud man to urge them on to do something so," Valerio spreads his hands out in a helpless gesture, "regretful."

"It sounds like you already know who was responsible for the fire," Sebastian says and narrows his eyes at the doctor. It can’t be that easy. His cases are never so easy that he finds what he needs in one day.

"I do, everyone knows," Valerio says with a sigh and there’s nothing. No crack or sign that Sebastian can see to show he’s trying to actively hide something. It’s a tad frustrating because that means the man is being truthful or is that good of an actor. "There were five men, Detective Castellanos. Seven, but two of them were too afraid to make the trek all the way out to the estate, and ran back home."

"Then why-"

"Please," Valerio raises one hand pleadingly. "Let me finish, and I’m sure your question will be answered. Five men where there the day the barn was set on fire, and they all heard the children inside. Four of them stopped then, but the fuel had been spread and the last man was a singularly evil specimen of a man. Fernando Cabrera is who you will want to talk to. For all the good it will do."

"Uh huh," Sebastian raises an eyebrow as the man takes a breath from the very calm recital of facts. "And what about the others? Failing to act is as much of a crime as the actual act."

"Dead, Detective. Guilt took them all in one form or another," Valerio responds. "Except Fernando. His violence just got worse. Devastatingly so. He was committed by court order to an asylum for his protection as well as the worlds."

Convenient. Neat. An entire twisted plot wrapped up in what would make the plot of a thirty minute TV show. Convenient and neat are two things that don't happen by accident in real life. Sebastian is waiting for the second shoe to drop, and he's got no idea where it's going to come from. “Why doesn’t Ruben know this? He still thinks the people who hurt him and his sister are alive and free.”

"I can only guess. My brother was the family physician and he spent the most time with the young boy as he recovered. I’m afraid I’ve only really seen poor Laura so I can’t say why he did not know this," Valerio looks over Sebastian’s shoulder to where he’d noticed a clock was before. "His parents most certainly knew. Everyone in town knows. Ah, if we could wrap this up, Detective? I have some medication to dispense to some of my patients."

"Sure," Sebastian gives into the brush off for the moment. He’s got a line of questioning he wants to follow, but he’s going to sit on it for a bit. End this on a good note so the good doctor might give him another chance later. "Sorry to have kept you so long, and I do really appreciate the answers."

"Not at all! I’m simply surprised that Ruben didn’t know this already. It’s rather disheartening to think about actually," Valerio stands and Sebastian lets himself get led out the door into the main hallway before stopping.

"Ah, I almost forgot, doc," Sebastian rubs at the back of his head a bit. A gesture he uses that people seem to read as nervousness or embarrassment. "If it’s not too much trouble I was also asked to see Laura? I mean, I know she’s in a coma, but he seemed insistent...."

"Ruben?" Valerio seems caught by surprise again and shifts a bit before nodding slowly. "Well, yes, I see. Ruben is particularly close to his sister and would want- Yes. I can allow it, but only for a moment."

"That’s fine," Sebastian says and follows as the man turns away from the front door. He bypasses several closed doors and a large open area that actually looks like a walk in clinic with chairs, beds, and a curtained area. Laura is in a room at the back of the building and Sebastian counts the doors he passes out of habit.

"I warn you, she is not an easy sight to see," Valerio warns with his hand on a door knob. "The skin grafting hasn't been a priority for her as much as her brother. Ruben also covers as much of his scarring as he can, but we only bandage the delicate areas for Laura. It’s better for her not to be completely smothered all the time."

"I understand," Sebastian says and Valerio opens the door. Stepping aside to hover in the hallway. There but respectfully out of sight.

The room is small. Smaller with the medical equipment neatly lined up to one side of the single bed that dominates the room. Laura lays there, placed in the exact center. A small figure dwarfed by discrete tubes and wires, and nearly completely unrecognizable as a woman. Barely human looking at all with the scars that look like they cover her whole body. Or just the parts he can see as he edges up to the bed.

Ruben's scars were hints that don't look even half as bad as the uncovered face of Laura.

"Hey," Sebastian says. Half because he needs something to cover his ass with Valerio and half because he honestly doesn’t know what he hoped to gain by seeing her. Other than seeing the fact that she’s real. He reaches out and presses two fingers to the mattress just beside one of her hands. Resting on top of the covers, the three remaining fingers held straight with splints, and the joints wrapped with a single layer of bandages. "Your brother asked me to look into this."

Laura breathes almost silently. The shifting of her chest the only thing that gives it away. The equipment attached to her reads something but he can’t tell what. She’s got no hair left, and the scarring on her face leaves just a hint of recognizable features. She’s being kept alive in this place, and not much else. Hard to do recovery stuff and skin grafts with an unconscious patient he guesses.

"He didn't know some things. A lot of things maybe. Guess I better let him know," Sebastian pats the bed because he’s honestly afraid to touch her. "I’ll see you around then, Ma’am."

Valerio closes the door when he leaves and nearly beams at him. An almost patronizing smile that makes him want to snap at the man. “Thanks, doc. I’ll see myself out.”


	6. Chapter 6

Kidman’s timing is impeccable. His foot is barely on the sidewalk outside before his phone starts ringing. “What’ve you got?”

"Misdirection mostly," Kidman isn’t put off by his demand. "The church’s floor collapsed a while back and uncovered a series of catacombs. The rumors are from the workmen hired to fix it. The church’s pastor pulled the religious freedom card when officials came by to investigate. Claimed they were burial grounds and looking through them would be sacrilege. The whole thing was dropped once the repairs were made."

"Uh huh," Sebastian gets in the car but doesn't head out just yet. "What about the money?"

"That’s an ongoing issue, but it’s being kept strictly inside the church," there’s the sound of shuffling paper loud over the phone. "Pastor Salvador Graciano denies it all, but his name and the money issue keep popping up. Not much else to say about that though."

Good to know. Probably useless now, but still good to know.

"There’s one hospice listed in Elk River-"

"Run by Valerio Jimenez," Sebastian says as he looks up at the building. "Just met him. Pleasant enough guy, but sounds like he reads all of his answers off of cue cards."

"The Victoriano family still contributes a hefty chunk of money to him. They’re listed as benefactors to the hospice and not much else," Kidman doesn’t sound annoyed to have her research turn meaningless with a simple visit. He'd have caught hell from Joseph over it. "Understandable as Laura is listed as a permanent resident. Papers listed her as being in a vegetative state. That might have been them being nice about her being brain dead though."

"Nah, she’s not brain dead. Just in a coma," brain dead people need a lot more machines to live. Machines to breathe and do other things that the body does naturally on its own just as long as there’s something left upstairs to direct it. Laura was well hooked up but there was no breathing tube.

"You would be the expert in that," Kidman says and then breezes on before he can call her out for the sass. "There’s really not much else to say about her. The fire is the most noteworthy thing that’s happened to her. Everything else she’s in usually mentions her as ‘daughter.’"

"Let’s put the church on hold," Sebastian says after a moment to think about the way the case is shifting on him as he goes. All cases do that and he's learned to prioritize and focus even though his mind still demands he know everything. He just doesn't have the time or the resources to do that anymore. "And the hospice."

"Do you still need me to look anything up at all at the Post?" Kidman asks with definite interest. Just because she's good at going through all those hard copies doesn't mean she particularly enjoys doing it.

"Maybe, but you can probably find this stuff out without having to actually go there," Sebastian sits up and watches an older couple leave their home down the street. They pointedly don't look toward him or his car before turning to walk the other way. Hands laced together and working at a gentle stroll. "Look for a man who was forcefully committed. Fernando Cabrera, no idea how to spell the last name but he should be from here. Keep an eye out for suicides too while you're at it. Men, there may or may not be mention of them losing property. Maybe they just die suspiciously. Hard telling."

"This is all connected to our paying client, right?" Kidman asks. Stressing the paying part again which means she looked over the finance sheets first thing this morning.

"Yes," Sebastian groans. "Look, you're still getting paid regardless so stop worrying."

"I'm looking to my _continued_ employment, Sebastian," Kidman says sharply, and if he was in the office he'd get treated to a scathing look on top of it. "I'll look into that name, and give you what I find in a few hours."

Sebastian hangs up first this time and takes one last look around. Nothing at all has changed. A few curtains twitch back as he turns the key, but people have been peering out at him the entire time he's been here so far. He wants to get out and walk up to one of those houses, but the questions he has aren't things the people here have the answers to. They also have nothing to do with the case he's on right now.

A case that seems to be finished for all intents and purposes. Quickly and easily. No bribes to be paid, no threats thrown around. Just a badly burned coma patient and her almost equally burned brother. Simple and neat like the TV shows he was thinking about earlier. Except this is real life and there's something lurking just under the surface of it all. Something dark and sleeping that he has the sinking feeling will swallow him alive if he tries to confront it.

Fuck but he could use a drink right now.

~

Ella's coffee is the next best thing he's willing to allow himself until he's home. At least the woman's diner is old fashioned enough that she doesn't give him the eye when he asks for an ashtray and the greasiest platter she has on the menu. He gets a bright laugh for that request instead, and not too much else. There's a young woman with a cooing bundle at the counter that keeps Ella mostly occupied and Sebastian is just fine with that. He's got some thinking to do.

The fire happened nine years ago. A group of men angry over losing their land to the Victorianos decided to go torching barns on the estate. It was bad luck that the kids were out there playing in it, even worse that Cabrera was there and obviously didn't give a shit. Both kids suffered horrible burns with Laura coming out the worse for it. Her state makes it impossible for her to live without the hovering presence of medical aid in some form or another. Sometime between the fire and now Cabrera got sent to an institution somewhere and almost all of the men apparently killed themselves. Guilt, maybe. Useful little facts that haven't been brought to Ruben's attention at all. 

His parents maybe, but they've been dead for a year now. Ruben's obviously in full charge of the family finances and estate. So why doesn't he already know all of this? What was Higgins so dead set on not telling him? What was Laura doing at thirteen and fourteen? Did the church even have any part in this whole thing at all?

Ella brings out a burger the size of his fist and a mountain of fries. She even leaves the coffee pot on the table for him. More for her sake than his though as she darts back to cooing over the baby after giving him a pat on his shoulder.

The church has nothing to do with this. Sebastian firmly rules it out even as he itches to follow up on the rumors he's heard. His interest in that has more to do with his own personal case than anything else and can wait.

There's no way to tell why Ruben hasn't been made aware of the fate of the men who burned the barn, but Ruben didn't really ask him to find the people responsible. He asked for the _person_.

"Huh," Sebastian frowns at the play on words he hadn't even noticed. Maybe it was intentional, maybe not. Either way, he thinks he's going to have to go back to the mansion now and set a few things straight with Ruben.

See exactly what he does and does not know, and spend an hour or so getting the story on his family out. It's like he's stumbling around in the dark without that information. Making wild stabs and guesses. He normally would have already done that interview, but he'd been so off this morning all he could really think about was getting away and grabbing coffee. 

Maybe once he's got that done he can figure out where Laura's medical record fits into it all. The taste of the food sours slightly in his mouth as he thinks about bringing it up to Ruben. It's probably not likely that he'll even know the story behind it. He had to have been, what, three? Four? Somewhere along there when it happened.

Hell, now that he's thinking about it, what was a good church supporting man like Ernesto doing taking his daughter in for an abortion? He's pretty sure that's the kind of thing the religious sort frown on. Wouldn't be the first time where wealth and hypocrisy spoke louder than faith, but it's just another layer on a massive pile of information he has. Not truly related to the case he's working but just close enough to it for him to think it's relevant.

It's a maddening feeling as his instinct screams and jumps around. He knows there's more, he knows it but he can't see it just yet. Sebastian ignores it for the moment, and stops thinking about the case for a bit. Focusing instead on the food he has as he waits for Kidman to get him a few more pieces of information.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My brother used to get migraines. I think that's the closest I can come to what the game describes Ruvik's constant headaches as. I've found nothing else that could be close, but I may just be overlooking it too.

"Beacon Memorial," Kidman states in a flat tone that gives away nothing of what she's feeling, but Sebastian's willing to bet she's feeling a little disturbed.

"Cabrera," Sebastian guesses as he drains the last of his coffee. The plate is long gone and he hasn't seen Ella or anyone in ten minutes. He fishes out some crumbled fives and leaves them on the table for tip. Next to the already paid check.

"Yes," Kidman confirms as he leaves. There's more people milling around outside because it's late enough that work has to be over. "Schizophrenic, borderline, manic. There's a laundry list of problems attached to his record and it looks like they changed with each doctor assigned to him. One consensus is he's highly violent and prone to paranoid delusions."

It's not surprising that Cabrera ended up in Beacon. There isn't any place better equipped in the state for violent cases like his. "Tell me he's still there," Sebastian pleads as he spins his wheels a little on the gravel parking lot before getting traction.

"As far as I can tell," Kidman says with a sigh, "but you know how accurate Beacon is with keeping track of patients."

"You're his estranged and illegitimate daughter. Make an inquiry," Sebastian orders and hopes she'll be able to find the man is still right where he's supposed to be. Considering it'd taken the unexpected guilt of an ex-wife of a patient to decide her kid needed to speak to his father just once to figure out people were going missing from the asylum in the first place, Sebastian doesn't have much hope of that being true. 

The missing from Beacon are always the ones who don't seem to have anyone. Just like the victims in Elk River, a pattern that had first led Myra to connect the two cases. "What about the others?"

"I've got nothing," Kidman responds. "There's too many deaths in the area to pick any out. Not a whole lot of suicides either. Just one in the last five years and it was a woman."

"It was a long shot," and probably doesn't matter all that much in the end anyway. Lot of suicides get covered up or are just never explicitly stated to be that in the papers. "Find anything else?"

"A man in Florida won the lotto," Kidman says flat and seriously like she's been reporting everything else. "He looks a little like you so if you want to off him and take his place I'll fully support you as your estranged and illegitimate daughter. Or trophy wife. I'm young enough to be either for you."

Christ save him from his partners. "Check my email and see if Joseph's got anything, _dear_."

"Yes, pumpkin pie," Kidman says in the same flat tone that nearly makes Sebastian choke on a laugh. "I'll see what the pool boy has found out."

She hangs up and Sebastian has to pull over to the side of the road before he crashes his car for laughing too hard.

~

He thinks about sending a text to Joseph to warn him that his poorly concealed crush is an open secret but decides against it. It'll be a lot more fun watching him squirm in the dark when Kidman decides to turn her penchant to evil towards him. The thought of that is light and bright enough to get him back to the Victoriano estate in a good mood.

Higgin's car is still there and that, combined with the shadows the place now throws over him, is enough to kill anything good he might have been feeling.

The door doesn't open for him, but it's unlocked and he lets himself in. He doubts that something as small as a knock will penetrate the still mansion very far. "Ruben?"

His voice echoes and is sucked up by the place. Sebastian takes the time to drape his coat over a nearby chair and undoes the first few buttons of his shirt again. He'd buttoned up against the chill in town, but the heat of the mansion is already sinking back into him.

He checks the dining room first. Higgins is gone as well as the glasses and decanter. There's a sharp smell of chemicals in place of the alcohol at least. The only sign of the drunk man's presences is the absence of the chair he was sitting in. There's no sound from the second door, slightly open, in the room but that doesn't mean much. Sebastian hesitates before deciding to check upstairs before exploring the rest of the mansion. A time consuming prospect that he hopes he won't have to do.

A line of light comes out from under the door to the library and Sebastian can tell he made the right choice even before he opens the door and finds Ruben almost right where he left him hours ago. Almost.

Ruben is sitting at the table. More hunched over it than sitting with his head resting on it, and Sebastian thinks he might be sleeping until he steps in far enough to see his face.

"Ruben?" Sebastian crosses the room and kneels next to the man whose face is etched with deep lines of pain. He flinches at the sound of his name and takes a deep, hissing breath as Sebastian places a cautious hand on his back. He's tense, almost vibrating under the touch.

"Headache," he grinds out and it sounds like he's choking on gravel as he refuses to open his eyes. Just sits there in a miserable ball of pain. "Don't talk."

Sebastian doubts this is just a simple headache. Not with how much pain the man is obviously in, but he obeys the terse command and keeps his mouth shut. His hand doesn't seem to disturb him so Sebastian looks around the room. Sitting hunched over doesn't seem like the best place for Ruben, but there's nothing else in the library that's better.

He gets up and walks out of the area to a long hall lined with doors on either side. The first one he opens leads to a room that has more than a few of the thick books around it. There's a bed in it and Sebastian pulls down what looks like the top five layers before deciding it's good enough.

Ruben makes a pained noise when Sebastian picks him up. He doesn't say anything or open his eyes, but his fingers dig painfully into the side of Sebastian's neck as he lifts the man up into an awkward carry. He's not light by any means, but Sebastian's had to haul heavier people around in his life. It's easy enough to get Ruben into the room and on the bed.

The man's breathing hard when he sets him down like he's the one who did all the work. There's a sickly cast to his face that gets Sebastian scrambling to find a small trashcan from near the desk. It's filled with papers and he hopes nothing else as he brings it near the bed.

He feels kind of useless after that. Ruben's still in pain as he curls a little onto his side. Face nearly buried in a thick pillow as he pants. Sebastian remembers the man talking about medication and for a moment wonders if he's going to even be able to try to find it.

"It will pass," Ruben grits out and Sebastian looks down to see one eye silted open. "Just leave me."

Sebastian has to trust Ruben knows what's best for himself right now. He sticks around for a bit longer before quietly leaving. He props the door open on his way out though, and only retreats as far as the library. He's close enough to hear anything if things get worse.

His plan of questioning Ruben is shot now, and Sebastian doesn't really know what the hell he's going to do until this, whatever it is, passes. He paces the library for a bit before stopping at the table with the decanter of lemonade.

There's no ice left, and Sebastian doesn't feel like trying to find the kitchen right now anyway. He pours himself about half of what's left in it anyway and settles in at the desk to wait.


	8. Chapter 8

_"You weren't meant to have that much," Ruben sounds amused and his face blocks out the ceiling as he looms over Sebastian. The light of the bulb he'd been staring at halos him and gets sucked into the dark scars twisting along his face and neck. "Can't be helped now."_

_Sebastian feels fingers pressing into the side of his neck as he stares, caught in the play of light and shadow. He's not beautiful, not in any sense of the word, but Sebastian's mind is slow and he thinks the man is striking now. That the feel of his fingers on his neck is actually nice. It's a struggle but he manages to tilt his head back to give Ruben more room to touch._

_"Interesting," Ruben looks amused now. The fingers move up his neck and to his face in a caress that makes Sebastian's thoughts move even slower. Nails scrape lightly down his cheek and Sebastian feels a moan leave him. Ruben looks absolutely fascinated now. "Yes, I can use this."_

_Sebastian hears a sound, like a faint click and the world lights up._

~

Sebastian wakes at the touch of fingers on the back of his neck. To his credit, he doesn't shoot up in surprise to make an ass out of himself. He doesn't need to after falling asleep while he was trying to keep an eye on Ruben. He blinks into the too dim room and feels like he's pulling himself out of deep water with each blink.

"Shit," Sebastian groans when he sits up slowly, feeling the way his neck protests from the way he was slumped over on the table. "Uh, you-"

"I'm fine, thank you," Ruben walks around far enough to look down at Sebastian. He does look fine. There's no trace of the pain or unease he had before on his face at all. "A consequence of the fire. The attacks come and go, and there is little I can do but endure it."

"Right. They happen often?" Sebastian swallows and wishes he had some water or something. His little nap has left him dry mouthed and the tart lemonade he drank before probably isn't helping much.

"Constantly," Ruben says without a trace of bitterness. Just a matter of fact statement. "I bear them better than the seizures though."

Seizures. Jesus fuck. Sebastian straightens up and feels his spine crack into place. Ruben's still standing and watching him almost placidly. "Was there something you needed, Seb?"

A good reassurance that Ruben isn't as alone in the world as Sebastian thinks he is would be a good start, now that he's getting a pretty terrifying picture of what the man deals with. It's not what he came back to the estate for, and it's also not what he's being paid for. So he sets that aside.

"Some answers," Sebastian says, and it doesn't come out as tough or threatening as it should have but Ruben nods anyway. "About your family, and about how much you _really_ know about the fire," Ruben doesn't look surprised at all by the accusing tone in the last statement, and Sebastian is actually surprised a little that the man's a bit of an asshole. "You know Fernando Cabrera is the only one still living. Why didn't you tell me that from the start?"

"I had to know how good you really are, Seb," Ruben smiles almost kindly and it doesn't do anything at all to change Sebastian's opinion on the man's level of assholishness. "I don't think you realize how very many people I have dealt with that failed at finding the obvious out. Rather spectacularly in some cases."

Sebastian can believe it. He's dealt with PIs on the force and off. Enough that he's gotten a good sense of how very many idiots out there try their hands at the trade. They usually don't last long but Sebastian's gotten more than a few burned and distrustful clients. Doesn't mean he has to like getting jerked around though. "Well, fine. Let's cut the bullshit then. What do you actually want, Ruben?"

"Cabrera," Ruben says after a moment of studying Sebastian. "He escaped Beacon Memorial nearly a year ago, and no one has been able to find him since."

"And why are you so set on finding him? He sounds like a real piece of work from what I've learned," Sebastian asks and notes there's no mention at all of finding out the why and who that was only heavily implied before. He wonders if he even heard mention of it, or if his mind just made it up.

"Peace of mind," Ruben says with a shrug as he leans against the table. Not bothering with the three seats close by. "I'd feel much safer with him locked up. For myself and my sister."

Sebastian tilts his head and studies Ruben. The man's not lying and his gut isn't twigging as much as it had the first night. He might be getting told the actual truth right now. "There a reason for that, or is it just a general safety thing?"

"Cabrera has a lot of delusions. Paranoid and over the top," Ruben shakes his head and does a slow wave around him. Pointing out the room, the books, or maybe even the entire house. "He has a convoluted theory about the hospital and the church. An entire world of cultists and murders that puts him in the role of shining savior that has to destroy it all."

"And your family is part of it," Sebastian connects it to the vague rumors Ruben mentioned before. 

"Because my father bought out his land and donated regularly to a church he rarely even attended. That's all it took for our family to gain a starring role in his delusions," Ruben nods and his eyes look grim. "I was warned when he escaped that there's a high probability that he would come back. He talked often of finishing what he started to his doctor."

"There been something to lead you to believe that might actually happen?" Sebastian asks because he doesn't put much worth into the warnings the people at Beacon Memorial give out. They're either over exaggerated or very understated usually. "Do you think he's here, that he's an actual threat to you?"

"Yes," Ruben pushes away from the table and goes behind Sebastian. There's a small pile of folders and he pulls a thick envelope out of one. "These come every few weeks by mail."

Sebastian knows they're pictures the second he feels the glossy side of them. He pulls out a neat little stack of 4x6 color photos and flips through them. They're a rather eccentric mix of images. Half people and half mutilated animals.

The animal pictures are the standard fare for what they are. Dogs, cats, pigs, and a few deer. Sebastian can't even identify some of them through the mess of what's been done. It's obviously the work of a highly disturbed mind though, and Sebastian sets them aside after ascertaining there's nothing useful in them. That they're there for shock value and wordless threat.

Most of the people pictures are of Ruben. Bandaged and caught either between the mansion and a car, or on the short walk up to the hospice. One shows him inside of Laura's room. Sitting in a chair with his head angled down and away from the window where the picture taker had to have been standing to get it. There's several of Laura alone through the window, and one that's terrifying because it's not taken through a pane of glass at all. Valerio is in a few as well, along with a much thinner man that Sebastian knows by sight but not name from Beacon Memorial.

"Why didn't you go to the police with this?" Sebastian asks after putting the photos back in the envelope and looking back up at Ruben. He's unafraid, that's pretty obvious immediately. "This is the kind of thing they’re made to handle."

"The force out here isn't the same as what is available in the city. They're all old men who still remember my father, and are reluctant to get involved against his wishes. His dead wishes," Ruben says with a distasteful curl of his lips. "My father dealt with Cabrera on his own, and, like it or not, I shall have to do the same. He's left me with no choice."

Who? Cabrera or Ernesto? Both? "Is this it? No notes or any other contact?"

"Nothing. No words at all and no way of tracking where he is through these," Ruben pulls out an opened letter and shows it to him. The return address is for the hospice. "They're dropped off in mailboxes all around the town. No one ever sees him."

"You've had someone track him that far?"

"No," Ruben denies. " _I've_ tracked him that far. As I said before, all the other people I've paid for help have been less than suited for the job."

"I'm going to be honest right now," Sebastian says after a minute of silence where Ruben fails to offer anything more up. He stands up and turns to meet Ruben's eyes head on. "I don't like being lied to when I'm trying to help a person. I get where you're coming from, but that's not going to stop me from walking out and leaving you to deal with this on your own if you do it again. I need the truth, Ruben, the _whole_ truth, to help you. You understand?"

He feels sorry for Ruben and Laura. Sorry enough that it's probably skewed his thinking already, but not enough to stick around chasing shadows. Not when there's a real threat lurking around them.

"Perfectly," Ruben says after listening to him. He smiles again and looks pleased that Sebastian's just threatened to walk out on him.

"Good," Sebastian looks back at the table, but his throat is starting to hurt and there's a hell of a lot to get through before he's comfortable ending the day. "You got a kitchen around here somewhere? We're going to need something not drowned in sugar when you tell me all about your family. About Ernesto."

"Of course," Ruben says, smooth as silk as he walks towards the stairs. "Whatever you need. Follow me, Seb."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next are going to be short, and deal with my headcanon of the twisted Victoriano family. Or what Ruvik's willing to reveal to Seb about it anyway. So feel free to skip if the prospect of incest, child physical and sexual abuse, and abortion upsets you.

There is a kitchen as it turns out and it actually looks like someone uses it pretty regularly. Probably not Ruben going by how it takes him more than a few minutes to find things. "I pay a woman in town to cook. She doesn't stick around beyond that."

Sebastian doesn't blame her. The mansion is oppressive by itself. More so with Ruben around if she's like most of the cautious people from town. He holds up the bottled water he grabbed for himself. "Not really that hungry right now."

"No?" Ruben shrugs off his dismissal and pulls out a tupperware container that really doesn't look like it belongs. Neither do the bright orange carrots inside of it. Precut and washed. "What do you need to know about my father? I've already told you that Cabrera's grudge isn't linked to anything logical. I wasn't lying about that."

"I don't doubt that, but it's always a good idea to find out everything I can," Sebastian drains the bottle and goes back for a second before dropping into a worn looking chair at a table scratched and gouged from years of cooking. His thumb nail catches in one particularly deep one as he strategizes on the fly for this round of questioning. Years of working with partners who never hesitated to smack him over the head for his bluntness have instilled some sort of a sense of tact in him. One he tries to follow more often than not because it gets results, but he's still pissed at Ruben and not inclined to hold his punches at the moment. "I'd also like to know more about Laura. There's some things in her medical file that worry me."

"Her- What?" Ruben goes utterly still for a moment before his eyes snap over to him. Blazing with anger but not enough to cover his surprise. "When, no, _how_ did you get access to-" Ruben's eyes narrow to thoughtful slits and shift slightly left. "The hospice has them. Valerio should have them secure though, but you...."

"That's what I'm paid for," Sebastian offers and nothing more, because it's always better when he can keep people guessing. "You might want to talk to Valerio about that though."

"I'll do that. So you were able to access her files," the anger and surprise is already gone. For all that Ruben seems like a calm and cool person he seems to burn through strong emotions like wax. Hot and fast, a strong outburst that's over almost as soon as it's begun. "And you found something concerning in them."

"Start talking," it's entirely possible Ruben's never seen her files before. The papers he looked at were all old enough to be buried by the newer reports, and he wants to see what Ruben will say without knowing what he's looking for.

"Father was a proud man. Pious, educated, and very certain he was right in everything," Ruben starts after a moment of consideration. "He tended to drink as well, and his qualities didn't change even when he was senseless with it."

"He was abusive," Sebastian translates. He wouldn't have interjected like this on the force. The danger of being accused of putting words into a witnesses mouth too dangerous, but he's not likely to have to take any of his work to court these days and can steer the conversation as much as he needs.

"In a way, yes," Ruben shrugs and picks up one of the carrots neither of them have actually eaten yet. He doesn't look particularly interested in eating it now either. "I wouldn't go so far as to call him an abuser. We feared his anger more than his fists. He never dared to leave marks behind."

"Just because he didn't hit you doesn't mean it wasn't abuse," Sebastian says. The platitude is old and slips out of his mouth automatically. He'd always hated it when he'd come across kids that used that kind of logic. That their dad or their mom weren't abusive because they didn't hit them, didn't hit them often enough, or some other excuse. 

Ruben shrugs and continues to look at the damn carrot. Seemingly utterly fascinated by it and not effected at all by the conversation which is mostly just hinting around things. Depressing things. Shit, now he's feeling sorry for the asshole again. 

"The barn that burned was on a farm that raised flower crops not far from here. He bought it for Laura. Sunflowers were her favorites," Ruben explains as if it's totally logical for an entire farm to be bought for that reason alone. "She was getting ready to turn eighteen. He called it a birthday present."

"Hell of a present," Sebastian comments and waits for the point. "I'd call it overkill though."

"Hmph, he was afraid. Maybe for the first time in his entire life," Ruben's contempt for his dad was obvious before, and it just gets more obvious now. "Laura was going to leave and be free from his control."

"Free to talk about what he did to her?"

Ruben's silent again and drops the carrot to fix him with an unreadable look. "What _was_ in her files, Sebastian?" 

"Your sister had two abortions," Sebastian lays it out because Ruben seems set on hinting around things. Set on not actually saying anything unless he has to. "One when she was thirteen and one when she was fourteen. Your dad took her to have them both done at the hospice."

Ruben doesn't react. His eyes drift slowly away from him though. Moving to stare at one of the plain walls, as he says nothing for several minutes. 

"Some days, I really wish that he wasn't dead," Ruben eventually intones and when he looks back his lips are twisted into something hard and dark. His eyes are even harder, and Sebastian realizes with a start that he was wrong about Ruben burning through emotion fast. The man buries them deep, but there's no mistaking the loathing and hatred in his eyes right now. Something so large it could have only been built up for years. "It feels like he died far too painlessly."

"That happens," and it's usually for the best. Sebastian's had to arrest one too many kids after they snapped. Had to throw them to the courts. Even though a good defense attorney could argue self-defense on most of those kids they rarely came out alright in the end. The car accident that took the Victoriano's was probably the best outcome in this case. "You saying your dad-"

"Yes," Ruben interrupts quickly, "do you really need to know this?"

Does he _want_ to, is the real question. He doesn't but, hell, he's getting the feeling that he's going to need to know everything before this case gets done. "I need to know everything."

"If you says so," Ruben turns to one of the shelves and approaches the table with a bottle. Dark green with no label and an already loose cork. The heavy scent of wine fills the air as soon as he pulls it out. "But you'll want some of this first. I guarantee it."


	10. Chapter 10

Wine isn't his thing. Never has been so he can't really tell if what he's been poured is the cheap stuff he expects it is or if it's actually quality wine. It doesn't do much for him and that's the only reason he takes it. It's heavy and almost sour on his tongue when he drinks it, lingering even after he's swallowed hard a few times. The wine doesn't seem to apply to Ruben's previous statement of not wanting to mix with his meds either. So maybe the wine just doesn't count at all for anything.

"My father loved my mother," Ruben talks like he's telling a story from a book. A very boring story. Something he tells all the time and can't be bothered with being enthusiastic over it anymore. "But he fell in love with Laura from the moment she was born. The wrong sort of love for a father."

Ruben isn't actually drinking though. He's slowly turning the glass. Tilting it so the dark red liquid clings and slides down the sides of the glass.

"I'm sure I don't have to get into the details of _that_. Just that it happened, and mother," Ruben's lips go tight and pinched. His voice carrying the same loathing it held for his dad. "She grew jealous."

"Over her own daughter?" Sebastian can't help interjecting in disbelief. He's seen it. Usually when the man involved isn't the biological father though, and those cases had always taken a more deadly turn. Nothing good ever came out of that kind of fucked up dynamic.

"Laura wasn't her daughter. Not really, not after she saw..." Ruben dips a finger into the wine and drags it up the side of the glass and doesn't finish his sentence. "I'm not going to pretend to understand it. It was always something that just _was_ when I was a child. She loved father, she hated Laura, and --when I was born-- she loved me as well."

Love is a loaded word when he says it and Sebastian watches the man carefully but there's no shift in his expression. The wine beads up and lazily rolls down into the bottom of the glass again. Ruby red when the light catches it and almost black when it doesn't. 

"Laura loved me. The two of us were the only good things we could hold onto. I was her favorite, because," Ruben goes silent and thoughtful for a moment before shrugging slowly. "Perhaps because of the children she didn't have. Laura was always there with me for as far back as I can remember. She cared more for me than our parents, and did more to raise me than any of the people hired to do that job did."

Ruben sighs and shakes his head hard once, his voice goes back to the measured tones of a story teller. "Father did not care for that at all. He was jealous of me, I suppose, for taking so much of Laura's attention. His anger took a more isolationist approach," Ruben remarks with a wry smile. "I was rather used to being locked up and hidden from the world and its people long before the fire."

There's an entire story unspoken. Ruben's pretty much an expert at crafting bare lines of a story and leaving it alone for people to paint in. Sebastian has to stop himself from filling in too heavily. His mind wants to, but he doesn't need that kind of vivid of a picture.

"Higgins was talking about jealousy," Sebastian says instead, because the man doesn't seem as entirely out of it as he'd first thought him to be now. "He knew a lot about what went on didn't he?"

"I told you, father was a proud man, and absolutely certain he was right in all things. He always treated Laura more like a wife than daughter from my understanding of it. It was no secret to those who knew him," Ruben reaches in for more of the wine and drags it out into the air. Holding the shimmering droplets on the tips of his fingers. Watching intently as they shiver before slowly rolling down his fingers. "Growing up, I thought it all so very normal."

That's the kicker. Sebastian's heard it before, and he knows that expectation is the thing that keeps bad shit like that going in an almost perpetual cycle. One that doesn't break easily. A fire would do it though. "And the hospice? The doc there didn't seem like the kind who'd run an illegal operation like that in his own place."

"Not Valerio, not directly at least," Ruben turns his hand over and lets the wine drip onto the table. "His brother, Marcelo Jimenez, was --still is-- the family doctor. He used the hospice when needed, he would have been the one to perform any... Surgeries."

It's a depressing as shit story, and Sebastian's kind of pissed at himself for dragging it out. Because as much as it's illuminated things about the Victorianos, about the whole event, it hasn't actually done anything to further his case. It's a sad and dark thing to have happened, but the only connection it has with Cabrera is his role in stopping it from continuing or escalating in a very brutal way.

"Higgins said your father locked Cabrera up," Sebastian says after a moment to digest and shift his thoughts around a bit. He's grateful for the heavy wine now. It clings to his tongue with an overwhelming flavor that helps him swallow easier. "Valerio said Higgins was declared insane by the courts and forcefully committed to Beacon Memorial. He had a lot of help doing that, the same men who knew?"

"Most likely. You won't hear it from any of them though," Ruben wets his fingers again and reaches out this time to let the drops fall on Sebastian's closest hand. It's room temperature, and he barely feels it as more than a sliding sensation as the drops roll down the back of his hand. Thinning out enough to look red in the light. "Higgins came the closest to talking to me about any of it, and you saw how that went. Most of them are holed up in their homes. All their doors and windows locked as they try to distance themselves from the matter."

"They're afraid of Cabrera," Sebastian says and wipes his hand on the rough table. There's a smirk hovering on Ruben's face but Sebastian can't find enough irritation in him to shift away.

"Among other things, yes," Ruben wastes no time in scattering more drops of wine on his hand. It's an oddly bratty act and Sebastian's pretty sure a psychologist would have a field day with the act given what they were just talking about. "He may have threatened them. I don't really know, but since Pastor Graciano disappeared they've all become rather tight lipped on the matter."

"The pastor?"

"He spoke loudest during the hearing about Cabrera's increasing delusions. The man was a very pious member of his congregation, and the pastor was good enough to break some rules and tell what the man said in confession," Ruben says in disgust. His fingers drag at the beads of wine on Sebastian's hand. Smearing them almost to nothingness.

"Pretty sure the church frowns on that sort of thing," Sebastian can hear himself saying. Distantly like he's not really talking because all of his attention is zeroed in on the two fingers dragging slowly back up his hand.

"I'm sure," Ruben says and there's enough amusement in his voice to jolt Sebastian out of his own unexpected focus.

He pulls his hand away this time when he wipes it against the table first and then his pant leg. His skin still tingles and he's extremely conscious of the way his heart rate has picked up from the simple touch, the way his gut has tightened, and the way he really wants nothing more than to lay his hand right back out there in easy touching distance.

It's not an unfamiliar feeling, this sudden rush that makes him hyperaware of his own body and Ruben. Not unfamiliar at all, but it's something he hasn't felt in years. Something that he'd thought he'd buried when he put on the ring he wears. It blindsides him now just like it always did. The lust-stupid rush of attraction combined with an almost adolescent desire to impress.

Where the _fuck_ is this coming from? Sebastian has to bite back the reflexive curse that wants to come out. He looks away from Ruben who is _not_ anything that Sebastian has ever been attracted to in his entire life, but the churn in his gut is still there even when he drains the little bit of wine left in his glass. "I should look into that. The pastor might be the best lead into finding Cabrera. That happen recently?"

"Last month. He was last seen after a late service and nothing more has been heard from him," Ruben sets his own glass down and Sebastian can feel his eyes on him. Almost like a physical touch even as Sebastian stands to put a bit of distance between them. "It's late now though."

"There's always something to find," Sebastian dismisses because late is sometimes the best time to look at things or places. Especially if he has to break in someplace to do it. Bit of a bitch since he just came back from the town, but that's what tomorrow is for anyway. "I should see about getting a room anyway while I'm at it."

Sebastian looks at Ruben and gives him a slight smile because he's a grown ass man who knows how to deal with pretty damn inappropriate attractions. Even ones that are sudden and completely out of nowhere. He's going to keep his mouth shut and his eyes focused on the end goal of the case, and not think about it until after he's got the check for the job in the bank.

"There's plenty of rooms here," Ruben rises as well and offers probably the last thing Sebastian needs. "There's no need for you to pay for anything, Seb."

"Thanks," Sebastian says even as the nickname sends a shiver through him, like the man had said it low and against his ear. An image that Sebastian really, _really_ doesn't need right now. It makes his head spin in conflict and Sebastian pinches the bridge of his nose even as he feels exhaustion creep up on him. "But I think..."

_"Hush, stay," the scratches of the table are rough against his cheek and smell like electricity and burnt hair. He blinks slowly at the moving, writhing shadows coming from a door that wasn't opened before. Fingers card through his hair in time with little jolts of electricity that seem to roll through him like waves. Ruben's voice fills him like the taste of the heady wine on the back of his tongue. "You're mine now. **Stay**."_

"It's after one," Ruben says. His voice loud in the kitchen like neither of them has spoken in hours. Sebastian jerks his head up and stares at the man confused. Ruben's standing right in front of him, a lot closer than he was a few moments ago. "Elk River is a small town, Seb, no one will be open to rent you a room. Stay here."

"It's that late?" Fuck, Sebastian hadn't thought of the way everything changes with the size of the town. In Krimson hotels don't ever close. There's always someone at the desk willing to hand a key over for money there. And going back now really isn't a good idea. "How the hell'd it get so late?"

"Stay," Ruben says without addressing his questions. It's not a request and Sebastian knows it's going to be a real fucking bad idea.

"Sure," the word flies out of his mouth the second he opens it. Heedless of anything his mind's screaming, and even that goes quiet when Ruben smiles before walking out. The darkness of the hall swallows him up before his voice drifts back drawing him along behind as easily as a fish on a hook. "This way, Seb."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here's the sex promised by the rating.

It’s been over twenty years since Sebastian sent a note with a yes or no box to check to Alicia Garcia in class. He’d sweated over that piece of paper all week before getting the courage to send it, and the awful way his stomach had swooped and curled in on itself when she read it nearly made him throw up. That feeling had slowly gotten better with age and experience. He’d lost his fear of rejection the more often he got turned down, and the anticipation of getting a ‘yes’ hadn’t been quite as high without that fear. Something he’d appreciated when was twenty and debating between continuing college or going straight for the academy. A decision that was stressful enough for him to appreciate the fact that when he flirted with the barista —whose gender he’d never figured out— at his favorite place he wasn’t as caught up in being turned down every time.

Twenty years and he’s right back to that day he’d thrown a folded up square of paper at Alicia’s desk when the teacher wasn’t looking. Sebastian stumbles on the stairs. Over nothing at all that he can see and it’s not the late hour he can blame for that. His mind is clear and very alert now. Unfortunately so when Ruben puts a hand on his lower back in wordless support. And then leaves it there.

Sebastian feels like laughing when Ruben stops outside of his own room and attempts to look regretful. “I don’t have company often. Most of the rooms are closed up, it’s easier to keep up with if there’s less to take care of.”

His mind fritzes just a little more because he’s pretty sure Ruben’s going to suggest sleeping with him as a result.

"What?" Sebastian doesn’t believe that excuse for one damn second though. Not just because the man is doing a poor job of acting, but because he’s pretty sure he’s heard that kind of line in the pornos that have slowly been slipping back into his life, and that’s just the kind of cliché that would make this night complete. "Are you fucking serious?"

Ruben actually purses his lips in a fleeting expression of annoyance as he sighs. “Don’t argue.”

Sebastian’s shirt gives a little when Ruben fists his hand in it and pulls him into the room. He goes with it even though he knows he really should be turning around right now. Should be going out to his damn car to camp out in the back seat for a few hours before taking off and finishing this case without further tangling himself up.

Because he is tangled up. Badly and it’s only been two days.

"This is a horrible idea," Sebastian says it out loud because it needs to be said, and Ruben pulls him straight to the bed.

"For you, yes," Ruben only lets him go long enough to turn around, and Sebastian’s shirt is a little looser when Ruben fixes him with a hard stare that’s all calculation. "Incredibly so. Now strip."

Sebastian doesn’t move. Part of him is still screaming at him to back the fuck off and run, but it’s a small part that gets smaller when Ruben steps closer. Close enough that when he tilts his head up Sebastian can feel the warmth of his breath before he kisses him. An awkward push of lips that kills off all his objections in a matter of seconds.

It’s clumsy and awkward until Sebastian gets an arm around Ruben and pulls him in close against his chest. Tilts his head to the side and down because the man’s shorter than him by just enough inches to make him very conscious of it. When he’s not busy being conscious of the contrasting rough and smooth lips against his own. Ruben's bottom lip feels chapped and dry, a result of the burns that Sebastian wonders at when he licks the bottom lip and Ruben doesn’t react. Not like he does when Sebastian transfers his attention to the top lip.

Ruben’s mouth opens instantly and he relaxes, just a little. More when he gets a hand in Sebastian’s hair and _pulls_ his head down into the kiss. Wet and eager with both of their teeth pressing almost painfully until Ruben pushes away.

Sebastian’s shirt is fully unbuttoned and his belt is hanging loose. He hadn't even felt Ruben's fingers moving. He's faintly impressed. “Jesus you work fast.”

"On the bed," Ruben’s voice is lower and thicker as he runs his eyes down Sebastian with a little less calculation and more heat. His tongue flicks out over his lips slowly like he’s considering the taste there. He reaches behind him and grabs Sebastian’s hand hard. Forcing it back a little with a wince.

Sebastian moves instantly with a wince of his own. The reminder that he doesn't really know all that much about Ruben's injuries --things that still bother him after all these years-- is enough to cool him down a bit and make his spinning mind start to pay a- _fucking_ -ttention. "Shit, sorry."

"I don't feel as much in some places," Ruben explains as he moves away from the bed and stops Sebastian from doing the same with a hand. He turns back to look at him and in the dim light of the room it's hard to tell where the bandages on his face and his skin end in places. "It's easy to damage the tissue in those places if I'm not careful," he pushes again until the back of Sebastian's knees touch the bed. "So you're just going to have to do exactly what I say. Got it, Seb?"

Shit, but Ruben could be pushy. Sebastian'd be lying if he said he didn't really like it though. 

"Dunno, I've been told I don't take orders too well," Sebastian quips and is rewarded with a slow smile as Ruben's hand drops, fingers catching demandingly on one of the loops in his pants. Sebastian shrugs off his already unbuttoned shirt and then peels off the undershirt that's started to stick to his chest with the hint of sweat. His vest is gone, and he wonders if he'd taken it off at the door earlier to try to get a reprieve from the heat he's not really feeling much anymore.

"All of it," Ruben says, a low whisper as he runs his hands over Sebastian's bare chest. Fingers tensing when he runs them back up, tugging a little at the hair on his chest as Ruben watches his hands move over Sebastian with an avid expression. 

Sebastian swallows and his pants pretty much fall off once he unbuttons them. The weight of his belt taking them down to tangle dangerously around his feet. The glide of eight unbandaged fingers is warm over his stomach as Ruben hooks his hands into the elastic of Sebastian's boxers. Pushing them down with impatience.

"Fuck," Sebastian wavers on his feet and has to fall back on the bed to not fall over. He's still got his fucking shoes on and that's not making it easy at all to kick the tangle off of him. "Shit, let me-"

Ruben crouches down and Sebastian's chest spasms at the sight of his head going down, but the man only efficiently removes his shoes. Two quick tugs and the pants and boxers disappear before he stands up. Deft fingers already working at the far looser clothing he wears as Sebastian takes the chance to move back fully onto the bed.

Ruben keeps the shirt on after unfastening a few buttons. It’s longer than what he needs and the tails of it cover him down to about midthigh. Sebastian can see more bandages on his legs as he crawls up on the bed. A large pad on his right thigh held down with tape and gauze. The rest are smaller and Sebastian doesn’t get the chance to look at them before Ruben settles over him. Knees pressing into his sides as he settles his weight on his legs. The bandage on his thigh catches on the callouses of Sebastian’s fingers as he carefully places his hand over it. “How’s this going to go?”

Ruben’s considering it. Eyes flickering down Sebastian’s body to his half hard dick and back before he reaches for Sebastian’s hands. Dragging them up to his sides and holding them there briefly. “You can go down and back, but don’t move them anywhere else.”

Sebastian immediately moves his hands back. Curving them around and dragging up the shirt with a smooth move that leaves him with two handfuls of the man’s ass to squeeze. Quicker than he should have going by the narrow and pissy look that gets him. Sebastian grins feeling reckless and unrepentant even as he's careful not to press too hard. “Anything else?”

"Don’t move," Ruben orders as he shifts up and plants one hand on the bed beside Sebastian’s head. Like that’s going to happen. At Sebastian’s snort of a laugh, Ruben’s eyes narrow even further. "I can _tie_ you down if you think that’d help."

"Probably not, but I wouldn't mind trying," Sebastian’s distracted trying to edge his thumbs forward into the area Ruben’s declared off limits. Already pushing the boundaries and he feels the smooth skin give way to the even smoother glide of scar tissue before Ruben leans down further and _bites_ him. Not gently at all and Sebastian grunts at the pain before moving his fingers back. "Fine."

Lips immediately replace the teeth and Sebastian moans when a tongue follows to soothe the brief pain. Ruben moves over him further, adjusting himself until he’s lying on him. Their bodies pressing together and Sebastian doesn’t try to stop from rolling his hips up. Feeling himself grow harder as his dick brushes up against the body warmed shirt between them.

He lets his hands wander down carefully. Letting his fingers dig into the uncovered skin of Ruben’s legs, and lightening up when his left hand gets near the bandage. Ruben arches up with sharp groan and kisses him again. Hungry and deep. Sebastian’s hands twitch eager to come up and pull the man down further but he keeps them right where they are like requested. 

It’s intoxicating feeling Ruben shift and move over him. The only skin to skin contact against his hands and lips, and a brief graze of a knee to his side when Ruben pulls away all too soon. Sitting up again and looking down at him with an odd expression. Curious and almost dazed as he pants lightly. Ruben scrapes a thumb over his lower lip and blinks before his eyes get focused again. “Interesting.”

Sebastian’s opening his mouth to ask or maybe tease Ruben about the almost clinical expression, but all that comes out is a moan when a slick hand wraps around his dick. Getting him fully hard and shaking with only two strokes.

"Oh, fuck!" Sebastian arches up into Ruben’s hand. When the fuck had he gotten some slick? Sebastian moves his hands back up to Ruben's ass, fingers pushing between the cleft and he sucks in a sharp breath as he feels a hint of slickness already there. Fuck, Ruben'd been fingering himself while Sebastian was distracted. "Fucking..."

"Yes," his fingers slide as Ruben moves and his impatience is stark on his face as he moves up. Hand shifting to hold his dick more than stroke it. His shirt clings a little to his body and there’s obvious evidence that Ruben’s turned on tenting his shirt. Sebastian has a split second to feel relieved at that before all his attention is on his own dick again. Nudging up and into Ruben slightly, barely pushing in at all. The barest teasing of heat around the head of his dick is maddening. Sebastian grunts and _pulls_ , urging him to go faster.

Ruben groans as Sebastian slides in. Low and gutted sounding when he settles down. Sebastian’s dick fully in him, and he feels like wholeheartedly agreeing with that sound because Ruben is tight as fuck and clenching around him in a way that’s going to end this too damn fast even with his hands splayed out on Ruben to hold him down and _still_.

"This is," Ruben breathes out but never finishes the thought. His head rolls back a little and his eyes slide shut as he sits very still and just pants. His hands rest lightly on his thighs, fingers brushing lightly against Sebastian’s stomach as he _grinds_ down with a filthy moan.

Sebastian is hit with the ludicrous thought that Ruben’s never done this before, and almost laughs at the idea until he realizes —with a jolt that makes him groan— that it’s probably true. Years of recovery and an admitted history of both self-imposed and not isolation wouldn’t have allowed it.

"Oh, fuck," it’s Sebastian’s turn to sound gutted as he gentles the hands around the man. Holding on for his own sanity now rather than to guide faster. "You’ve never. Oh fuck!"

Ruben’s eyes open slowly and his lips curl up into something that’s more smirk than smile. “No,” the word comes out drawn out and sinfully low as he confirms the thoughts. “Never saw the point before.”

"Shit," Sebastian grinds out and rolls up into Ruben’s next grind. There’s not much friction but the tight heat of him clenched around his dick combined with the fact he’s a virgin is just as fucking good.

There was a time, when he was young and stupid, that Sebastian had actively gone after virgins. Something that was half manly ego, and half delight over the unpracticed reactions screwing around with them got. It’s something he thought he’d grown out of, but god. God fucking damn if he isn’t finding it all over again as Ruben _rocks_.

Back and forth on him likes he’s a damn rocking chair. The best kind going by the surprised glimmers of pleasure that cascade across his face like water. Minute twitches of muscle and fluttering eyes as he slowly gets accustomed to the dick stretching him open.

"I do now," Ruben says and it’s not really fair that he sounds like he’s having a regular conversation while Sebastian is still trying to remember words with more than one syllable exist. "See the point. I think, ah," Ruben grunts as he lifts up a fraction of an inch before sinking back down. Effectively killing all of Sebastian’s efforts to remain coherent at the tight slide. "I think I should’ve done this sooner."

 _No_. Fuck no. Sebastian growls at an unexpected flare of anger. Anger and jealousy that’s obviously plastered across his face because Ruben _laughs_ as Sebastian’s fingers dig into the muscle of his legs.

Despite his inexperience, Ruben doesn’t hesitate and finds himself an angle that’s doing something for him going by the sharp sounds he makes as he starts to ride Sebastian. Slow but precise as he braces his hands on Sebastian's chest. Putting all his weight on him before picking up speed.

Blunt nails scrape down his chest and Sebastian grits his teeth. Holding back the urge to slam up into Ruben when the trails of fire, as he does it again, harder, meld with the pleasure of Ruben clenching tight around his dick.

It's easy to let the other man set the pace like this. To just lay back and watch, _feel_ Ruben fuck himself harder and harder. His breathing becoming as hard and harsh as Sebastian's when he loses control of himself and thrusts up. Just a little, just enough to meet Ruben when he drops back down and drag a surprised noise out of the man. All the encouragement that Sebastian needs to do it again and again. Pushing his heels into the bed that sinks under their weight and snapping his hips up increasingly hard and fast.

Ruben goes stiff and still with a sharp cry and eight points of crescent fire get pressed into Sebastian's chest as his fingers claw up. Curses and words slide from Sebastian's mouth in a stream he can't even follow anymore as he thrusts up half a dozen or more times before he can't even tell what numbers are. Ruben a heavy weight on top of him, eyes fixed intently on him as Sebastian's eyes slam shut and he comes hard. Everything important draining from him and leaving him a wrung out doll on the bed.

Sebastian can't open his eyes. It feels like he got hit with more than just a really good orgasm. The late hour and troubled sleep from the day before catching up with him hard and fast. Dragging him under fast to make him the stereotypical out like a light after sex guy. Sebastian feels amused about it even as he slips away.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I swear there is a plot to this. It's not going to be all sex all the time. No matter how fun that is. ;)

_Sebastian pants into the soft mattress as something broad and cold drags up the crack of his ass. The blunt end is slick and catches on the rim of his hole as a hand splays out on his lower back. Commanding he stay still even though Sebastian couldn't move if he wanted to._

_"It's an unconventional use," Ruben says, nearly purrs, as the object --a rod? a dildo? what?-- slides in. Splitting Sebastian open because whatever's on it to slick the way in isn't enough even with him unable to tense up. "The outcome is the same in the end, but I do like the way you look like this, Seb."_

_His breath hitches and his heart stops as the world whites out._

~

Sebastian wakes up late and alone. He knows it's late from the grit in his eyes and the way his body doesn't want to do what his mind needs it to do. Five hours of sleep is what he's used to getting and he can wake up from that sharp and ready to go. Give him more than that and it feels like he's dragging the world with him as he sits up. There's a halo of light creeping in from the tightly blocked window and it lets in enough light for him to confirm what he knew the second he dragged his eyes open. He's alone in Ruben's room.

"Fuck," in the light of day, the feeling of being well fucked is nice and also dread inducing. He's expecting to get his ass caught by Kidman or Joseph as he pours himself out of the bed to look for his clothes. Expects to have to face their disbelief that he'd be so stupid and then their combined wrath at getting mixed up like this with a client. 

Too late to worry about that now though. He finds his clothes on a desk in the corner. Not folded but laid out neat enough they haven't gotten any more wrinkles on them than they got being taken off. Which is a lot as it is.

His belt is draped over the chair and close to falling off under the uneven weight. He rescues it from falling and slides his phone out from the normally empty clip to check it. There's no calls or messages waiting for him, and the time is edging past noon. Sebastian curses and grabs the clothing before turning to look at the second door in the room that he knows doesn't lead to the hall.

It opens up on another room instead of the bathroom he was hoping for. A perfectly clean and ready to be used room. "Closed up my ass."

He's forced out into the hallway and it takes three more doors before he finds a bathroom. Large and it probably used to be ornate at one point in time. Used to but there's obvious signs it's been altered for Ruben with little care given to how the newer elements mesh with the old feel the rest of the place has going. Sebastian doesn't really care about the looks of the place he's just grateful there's a shower.

With _pressure_. Honest to god water pressure that nearly makes him groan when the warm water hits his skin. His muscles are sore for some reason and he lets the pounding water loosen him up before cleaning himself off quickly. Hissing a bit as his fingers catch on some unexpected scabs while washing his hair, and when the soap trails down his chest to the light scratches that have stayed with him.

The bathroom's too big for his shower to have built up much steam and gotten some of the wrinkles out of the clothes he'd hung up next to the shower. Sebastian sighs and pulls on his undershirt. Leaving the top for the moment. The boxers are probably wearable again but Sebastian leaves off on them anyway. Not the first time he's had to freeball it.

There's no razor that he can find in the cabinet by the sink, but he finds some toothpaste and mouthwash that kills the cottony feel in his mouth easily enough. His shoes hadn't been in the room and Sebastian wanders out without them.

The mansion is still and dim as usual, and he walks through the parts he already knows. Half in hope of finding Ruben but mostly in search of food. His stomach is tight and demanding after missing dinner the night before, and he remembers seeing quite a bit of food in the kitchen.

He doesn't make it past the dining room. Ruben's seated on one of the chairs, eyes already turned expectantly towards the door when Sebastian steps in. He thinks he ought to feel more awkward about wandering the man's house only half dressed, but Ruben's not wearing much more than he is. Also, there's a rather large plate of sandwiches on the table that keeps Sebastian from feeling much beyond hunger.

"You should have eaten last night," Ruben remarks when Sebastian helps himself without asking. It's way too much food for the man himself anyway. Ruben doesn't follow that statement up though as he moves on to another subject as Sebastian sits after eating one to grab another. "I need to talk to Valerio today about a few things."

There's a tight note in his voice that leaves Sebastian no doubt what things the man needs to discuss. He doesn't say anything about it though as he continues to eat. He's completely _starved_. Like Ella's greasy platter the day before hadn't left him stuffed.

"Mr. Higgins usually takes me places I need to go, but he's disappeared on me," Ruben continues patiently. Not looking at Sebastian at all, his eyes on his nails instead. The skin around them is scarred, but the nails themselves are kept neatly short and clean. "If you wouldn't mind..."

He's asking but there's no reason for Sebastian to answer. He'll take the man into town or he'll look like an asshole. An asshole who doesn't want to be paid no less. Sebastian wipes a crumbling bit of bread off of his face and only says, "I need to go to the church today."

"It's not in the town itself," Ruben says and looks up at him when Sebastian pushes the plate away a bit. "They're very proud of it, and it's off the well-travelled roads. People don't like to let strangers know it even exists."

"Damn strange for a church," Sebastian relaxes a bit more. Ruben's pure business right now, and he's not letting any of what happened last night color their interaction right now. It's as relieving as it is confusing. "Thought they were all about welcoming strangers and lost souls?"

"There's a lot of strange things about that church," Ruben says darkly and reaches out to move the plate even further away from them. Sweeping the table clean with the sleeve of his half buttoned shirt afterwards. "It's one reason why I withdrew the family support from them as soon as I could."

Which would make Ruben's sudden appearance near it suspicious unless he can convince the man to- Sebastian frowns to himself and stops that thought cold. Ruben is his _client_ \--and a part of his mind laughs at that thought now-- not a partner to help him out. He tosses the half formed plan he'd made and nods at the food. "Do you ever eat?"

"A lot and constantly," Ruben says as he stands. "My body never really recovered from the hypermetabolism."

"The what now?"

"The-" Ruben stops and looks down at him annoyed and Sebastian's ready for a brush off when he sighs and offers a grudging explanation. "After the fire my metabolism increased significantly. It's a common response to thermal injuries and persisted for a long time. My body still seems to think it is starving."

Ruben isn't light. Sebastian already knows that, but the way his clothes drape over his body give it that illusion. Even knowing the man feels solid it's easy for Sebastian to think otherwise. 

There's strength in the fingers that thread through his hair, and in the arm that pulls him up and out of his seat even as Ruben falls back onto the now clear top of the table. Discussion over and his mind already on something entirely different.

"You eat on this," Sebastian hears himself say when he should be saying no. Distantly because he's already focused hard on the way Ruben's shirt gapes open. Bandages wind down his neck and cover a good portion his chest, but there's an edge of pale skin along one drooping edge that Sebastian wants to follow.

"And now I'm going to fuck on it," Ruben says patiently as he pulls on Sebastian's hair. "Or do you object to that?"

"Nope," fuck no. Sebastian gets up on the table and braces himself over Ruben. The hard wood is going to be hell on his knees but worth it. He almost says something about Ruben being the one who has to eat with people at the table, but has enough sense left in his lust dumb brain to keep that to himself.

He helps by distracting himself with Ruben's clothing. The pants are loose and slide right off with no protest from Ruben. Sebastian eases a hand into his open shirt. Splaying his fingers out over the bare skin he finds there as an arm wraps around his head. Pulling him down into a distracting kiss as Ruben's legs wrap around him.

Ruben tastes like the mint of the mouthwash he'd found upstairs, and he growls a little when Sebastian presses down. Rubbing against him as he moves his hand out of the shirt and down. His fingers slide over the raised edges of scar tissue before finding Ruben's dick. Growing hard and feeling reassuringly normal.

"Come on," Sebastian breaks off to mutter. "Take it all off."

Ruben looks up at him with unreadable eyes and Sebastian strokes him slowly just to see those eyes shutter. Ruben takes a breath after a moment before undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt. His fingers are steady and so is his gaze when he looks back up as the cloth slides off him.

A lot of bandages is all Sebastian can really see. Large pads with gauze on his upper chest and his side down to his lower stomach. A diagonal pattern that's interrupted by a patch of obviously transplanted skin starting at his pelvis. Two, or maybe three with raised edges where the skin connects with his body. The only indication that it's not natural at all, but otherwise nothing much more than the obvious burns looks wrong.

Definitely not anything Sebastian can _feel_ wrong as he pumps Ruben's dick again. Hard and long in his hand. He's pretty damn sure Ruben came last night so...

"This isn't a thing is it?" Sebastian asks outright because he's well aware of how little tact he has. "Not something I have to worry about pushing you on. Right?"

"You-" Ruben reaches down and holds Sebastian's hand still with an irritated huff. The look he gives Sebastian is downright baleful. " _No_. I appreciate the concern," he says in a tone of voice that really doesn't appreciate it and Sebastian grins at the utter _bitchiness_ of it. "But the only person being pushed is going to be you if you don't keep going."

"You do that magic trick with the lube again while I was distracted?" Sebastian lets go and works on getting his pants open. Not off because Ruben's legs are still wrapped around him and not likely to go anywhere anytime soon. "Or did you already get yourself slicked up?"

"With how long you slept?" Ruben's right hand twists under him before coming back to slap a tube against Sebastian's chest. "It wouldn't have done me any good."

Fair enough. The lube is warm on his fingers and one slides right into Ruben easily. Two gets an actual reaction out of the man. A frustrated grunt as he rocks down on Sebastian's fingers demanding more with a look.

"You have no patience at all," Sebastian says with a grin that gets him a withering look even as he pushes three fingers into the man. Unnecessarily going by the way he moves as Sebastian twists his fingers into his tight hole. Restless like he can't get enough of it even with the way he clings to Sebastian's fingers. It makes Sebastian wonder how someone who never saw the point in sex can be so easy. Maybe he'd just meant with other people.

"Should I?" Ruben tries to push him up but Sebastian twists just right enough to make him shake hard and fall back on the table. Distracted enough by the sensation to let Sebastian explore a bit more. Just a little. "Seb."

It's more growl than the plea he was going for but patience _is_ overrated. The lube feels cooler on his dick than it is but that doesn't matter one bit when he replaces his fingers with his dick. Ruben arches up and _moans_. Louder when Sebastian stops going slow and _slams_ in with a quick thrust.

"Careful," Ruben grits out but there's no sign of pain on his face when Sebastian leans over him. No sign that _careful_ is what Ruben wants at all.

He kisses the uncovered skin of his face and runs his teeth along a line of functioning and not functioning nerves. A line he maps out slowly by listening to the way Ruben sounds as he explores his body. Hands and mouth working intently even as he slowly fucks him.

Ruben's fingers drag new scratches into his back every time he finds a particularly sensitive spot. The unmarked skin behind his knees, the diagonal slash of pale skin on his chest, the hollow of his left collar bone, and the hardened nub of his right nipple. His hard and now leaking dick.

Sebastian pushes up enough to watch his face, left arm braced on the table as he curls his fingers around Ruben. Definite reaction with each slide of his hand, but he can see more in him when he fucks forward. More pleasure and louder gasps. 

Ruben's fingers dig into his back, and his eyes focus abruptly losing the daze they had before as he shifts. Legs going tight around Sebastian and making him moan in turn at his demanding, "Harder."

"Fuck," Sebastian breathes out and has to let go of Ruben's dick to comply. To get that arm down under the man's back and hold him up. Hold him still as he goes faster. "Alright, just-"

The angle does good things for them both. Sebastian can move fast and deep enough to make Ruben gasp. Sharp and constant with no hint of coherence at all. Just a constant series of moans that echo in his ear as Sebastian groans and lets his head hang down.

Ruben comes with a sharp cry. Hot come lands between them as he watches Ruben's eyes slam shut and his body arch up under him. His ass clamping tight around Sebastian. Too much too soon and Sebastian follows fast.

Sebastian groans and buries his face in the bunched up cloth of his shirt. Thrusts short and shallow as he comes, barely able to hold himself up over Ruben. Right hand slipping slightly on the smooth surface of the table as he goes nearly limp.

"Exquisite," Ruben hums, voice scratchy and pleased. Fingers rake through his hair, firm enough to make Sebastian shudder and pull away from Ruben's neck. To brace his arms on the table and take some weight off him. "You do have a good use after all."

"Thanks," Sebastian snorts as his soft dick slips out of Ruben. He rolls off to the side. Sitting up to watch Ruben. "I live to serve."

It's a joke at the jab to his pride but Ruben's lips twist up more broadly than Sebastian's seen them yet. "Yes, you do."

It's as amusing as it is irritating. A flash of thought of what Ruben would be like if the fire never happened. Bratty and entitled as hell. More so than he is now. And he's opening his mouth to say something about it when Ruben sits up and he catches sight of the breadth of bandages on his back.

The bandages wrap around from the front to his lower back and Sebastian can see the way they stick a little closer in one spot. "Uh, think I might've...." He trails off and carefully traces the whole skin around the edge. The white gauze is darkening in pinprick spots.

Ruben reaches back and carefully touches around the area with the heel of one hand. Pushing hard when he finds the spot. "It's fine," he dismisses casually. "A minor tear, it tends to happen a lot in that area."

Ruben grimaces slightly when he climbs off the table and Sebastian sees why when he turns to walk away. 

A slick trail of come slides down the inside of Ruben's thigh and Sebastian only sees it by luck when he slides to sit on the edge of the table. The sight of that, his come so obviously marking a lover he's just fucked, has always been a sight he enjoys and now is no different. He groans, loud enough to catch Ruben's attention and can't really force himself to look away when the man turns.

Ruben hums thoughtfully and when Sebastian can force himself to look up he's got a clinical look in his eyes that clears quickly into understanding. "Ah, I see."

He steps back towards the table and in between Sebastian's legs. His left hand grabs Sebastian’s and pulls it out and around him. Guiding his hand between his cheeks and pressing just enough for Sebastian to get the idea. 

"Fuck," Sebastian groans as he slips two dry fingers easily into Ruben. They don't stay dry for long as the mixture of the lube and come soaked into his ass coat his fingers in seconds. Ruben's still loose from the fuck too and Sebastian can feel it as he spreads his fingers and pumps them in and out slowly. Listening to the small sounds of pleasure Ruben makes as lust starts to burn bright and unrelenting low in Sebastian's gut again.

"Again?" Ruben asks as he lets go of Sebastian's hand and looks down. His voice is hoarse and absolutely pleased as his hand wraps around Sebastian's hardening dick. A hunger lurking under it that makes Sebastian shiver hard.

"I'm nearly forty," Sebastian snorts in useless protest even though, yeah, looks like he _is_ ready to go again. His fingers twist inside Ruben's hole until the man's breath catches on a sharp stutter and his eyes flutter shut in pleasure. "I shouldn't have the refraction time of a teenager."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Ruben lets his dick go with a slow stroke and flattens both hands on his chest to push. Sebastian goes back willingly as Ruben climbs back up on the table and settles over him. The bandages on his thighs are less maddening with the soft skin of his bare ass pressing down on him.

The table bites into soft underside of his knees, but Sebastian can ignore just about anything right now as Ruben holds his dick firmly in place. Shifting back to sink down on it in an easy slide that punches all the air out of Sebastian's lungs.

"Hm," Ruben hums when he settles down and begins a languid rocking. His hands splaying out over Sebastian's chest for support. His eyes are heavy lidded as he watches Sebastian's face. "I think I'll like having this."

Sebastian groans as Ruben clenches tight around him. The feeling of the man fucking himself on his dick is incredible even after having literally just come a few minutes ago. The slow pace is maddening but Sebastian doesn't hurry it. He's enjoying the slow fuck and he's not the only one going by Ruben's expression.

Ruben's smile comes and goes, his version of a grin as he rides Sebastian with fluid movements that have to be hell on his split skin. Sebastian curls his hands over the edge of the table to keep from reaching up and grabbing on again. He's done enough damage, and he knows he isn't in any kind of frame of mind to regulate his grip. Not when Ruben slides up and down his dick so damn easily. Sebastian's own come slicking the way and making the most obscene sounds echo in the room.

Sharp crescents of pain make him hiss as Ruben claws his hands. The blunt edges of his nails biting into his skin as he moves his hands in a petting motion. Fingers combing through the hair on his chest even as he leans forward to put more weight on Sebastian. His lips are parted and Sebastian can hear his breathing pick up but Ruben's more intent on him than anything else.

His blue eyes don't blink once as he pins Sebastian with them. His hungry eyes drink in every twist of Sebastian's face and light up at every involuntary noise of pleasure he lets go when Ruben takes to rhythmically clenching around his dick on a down stroke.

"You like that your seed is inside of me," Ruben starts to talk. His words as lazy as his movements, but sharp with a dark hunger that twists the fire in Sebastian's gut and fans it out to spread through his whole body. Fingers creep up his chest to curve over his shoulders and Sebastian is caught by his eyes. Can't really look away as every other bit of his will not being consumed by the tight heat around his dick is focused on not moving. "Mm, you like fucking me like this, like getting inside me to leave more. Like, ah," Ruben's eyes close for a brief second as he clenches down tight in a way that leaves Sebastian's mind spinning, "like to see it all leak out of me. As a reminder of what you did, or of what you're going to keep doing?"

The question is honest, but Sebastian can't answer it. Not when he has to clench his fingers so tight the wood cuts solid lines into his hands that hurt. Ruvik's hands move again and his fingers spread out along the back of his neck. Palms sliding against the side and his thumbs digging into the soft underside of his jaw. Tilting his head back with the force and making it hard to breathe.

"Some would see that as, hm, dominance or possession," Ruben murmurs and his words don't even really compute for Sebastian anymore as he crashes full tilt towards orgasm again. Just the dark tones he can hear lacing the words that make him move, despite his best efforts, up to meet Ruben. Feeling his dick push up into his unresisting body as he leans down. Hot breath fanning out against Sebastian's neck. "I don't."

Teeth, sharp and vivid bright sink into his neck and Sebastian shouts in surprise as the pain trips him over the edge. His vision whites out for a brief second at the pleasure/pain of it. A very brief moment that feels like it stretches out for a year before he slams back into his body. Sore, tired, and too fucked out to care about any of it as Ruben straightens up.

Slow and almost jerky like he's feeling it too as he sighs. His tongue darts out and Sebastian only realizes the fucker bit hard enough to draw blood once the red of it has been licked off his lips. He lets go of Sebastian's neck and draws his hands back down to his chest with a pleased hum as he surveys Sebastian below him. A proprietary air about him that's justified, because --despite the fact that Sebastian's sure he got more out of this than Ruben-- he feels distinctly used.

In one of the best ways possible.


	13. Chapter 13

Sebastian staggers into a small bathroom he's surprised to see has a mirror in it. The first one he's seen yet. He doesn't bother looking in it as he twists the taps on to cold and puts his whole head in the sink. The water is not very cold at all but he's built up a layer of sweat again and there's no time to shower if he doesn't want to waste the rest of the day. 

He tilts his head to the side and gulps down several mouthfuls of water before he scrubs his fingers through his hair. Water runs down from the long hair and down his neck to soak into his undershirt which he's going to have to ditch now. It's soaked through with sweat and stained with come. He strips it off when he stands up and uses the cleanest parts to scrub at his hair.

The lights are dim in the room, but Sebastian looks about as tired as he feels. His cheeks are dark with stubble that's only a few hours away from becoming a beard. He runs his fingers over it and scratches against the grain a little. Vivid red lines curve over the top of his shoulders. The red already fading as he rolls them and feels the slight burn that goes down his back.

Christ, but he's going to be feeling that for a while. He isn't young anymore. Multiple rounds like that aren't something that he can just do anymore. He's going to need to find some coffee somewhere, but before that he's going to need something to wear. There's a few shirts in his trunk and a small kit to clean up with for when things happen too fast and he can't afford the time to get home.

His shoes have migrated down to near the front door next to his trench coat. Hanging neatly on the hook of a rack he hadn't noticed before. It's warmed up outside, enough that he doesn't need the coat that scratches against his skin but he leaves it on anyway so that he's not wandering around the front of the mansion half naked. No one's likely to see, but he's not going that route if he can help it.

There's three shirts and a spare tie rolled around his kit, but he doesn't take off back inside with it right away. The world outside is loud and bright as ever and Sebastian actually relishes the change. The jarring contrast shakes his mind clear of some lingering lust stupid thoughts. He leans against the open trunk and fishes his phone out of his pocket. Marveling that it's stayed in there the whole time as he rings up Kidman.

"Yes?" She answers after a long minute. Drawing the word out into an even stronger question. There's a hint of confusion under it all.

"What've you got for me?" Sebastian prompts and wonders if he's caught her on lunch or something.

"About what?" She sounds wary and the lack of an immediate answer is troubling.

"Cabrera," Sebastian frowns. It's not like Kidman to be off her game like this. "You feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," she answers quickly and he hears something shift in her voice. When she continues it’s in her normal brisk tone. "The hospital was a dead end. They refused to confirm or deny. Just kept saying it was beyond their control. Joseph doesn't have anything to add and I wasn't sure how much you wanted to share."

"That's fine. This probably won't have much to do with his jurisdiction," Sebastian sets his things on the bumper and begins to move the rest of the crap in his trunk around with one hand. "You sure you're good? You sound off."

"I said I'm fine," Kidman sounds annoyed now. "I was out late last night at a bar with some friends."

"You have those?" Sebastian asks. Affecting more surprise and shock than he feels.

"More than you do," Kidman snaps back. Sounding just like the Kidman he knows and pays. "Did you need anything from me? I'm following up on sending hard copies of the reports for the Wenn case."

"They're going to court?" He's not surprised given the amount of money involved with that case of nasty blackmail. The risk of it all coming out not enough of a fear anymore for Wenn and his two unofficial wives.

"Next week. The lawyers were just in today," she confirms easily. "So if you need anything let me know now before I head out to hijack someone's copier."

"Might have something later," tracking the pastor would be nice but it can wait for a bit. He might get more info in town to help out with a direction there. "Focus on getting that extra commission for us."

"Then quit bothering me," Kidman hangs up and Sebastian's willing to bet she's going to show up at the precinct with the folders, two coffees, and a smile that's going to make everyone not ask why a civilian is chatting Joseph up next to the copier. He's seen it happen a few times before.

Sebastian slips the phone into a pocket in his coat and turns to the mostly cleared area of the trunk. He peels up the section covering the spare tire and jack. Underneath the little donut is his handgun in a worn shoulder holster that's soft to the touch, and several clips of ammo.

He folds it all into his shirt bundle before shutting and locking it all up. The gun is his but it's not his name attached to it anymore. He can, technically, own it and get a permit to carry. In reality, any application he puts in will get shut down for unknown reasons. He'd found that out fast the first year he left the force. When he'd barely been able to get his business going, and every year when he has to fight hard to keep it legal. Someone, somewhere really wants to bury Sebastian and he's learned to work outside of the rules to counter that.

Cabrera is a wild card but he's already proven willing to resort to violence. Sebastian isn't going to take any chances. Better to be armed and not need it than find himself up the creek without any way to defend himself. He just hopes it doesn't come to that. His luck's never been all that good though.

~

He looks presentable enough when he's done despite the wrinkles in his pants. More like a man who fell asleep on someone's couch than a man who's had his brains fucked out and doesn't have the sense to do a walk of shame home. It's a small difference but he'll take it.

"Are you sure-?" Sebastian starts to ask when he turns the car off and they're both looking up at the hospice.

"Yes," Ruben interrupts with no little impatience. Sebastian has been asking him the same question for over an hour now. "I don't like that there might be more hidden in Laura's medical records. I have full access to everything, and I should have seen those reports long ago."

Ruben doesn't even wait. He lets himself out and strides up to the door. Confident and looking a lot more put together than Sebastian in a long white coat and that same black beanie with stripes he wore- Jesus, just a few days ago? It feels like weeks already since Ruben first came in to his office in Krimson City.

There's a sound from one of the side rooms that Sebastian hadn't seen the other day. Low and constant enough that's it probably a show or something. Ruben turns to where Valerio's office is and the man himself rises from behind his desk with a welcoming smile that only falters slightly when he sees Sebastian trailing the man.

"Ruben, I wasn't expecting you today," Valerio says and completely ignores Sebastian's presence as he waves at an empty chair which Ruben is already sitting in even before the man can finish his sentence. "Ah, now, what can I do for you Ruben?" Valerio asks with understandable puzzlement as he settles back into his chair. Sebastian hangs out at the door, not following Ruben in. "It's been a while since we talked of Laura's treatment. Have you thought about those therapies I mentioned last time?"

"I want to see Laura's files," Ruben doesn't play around with the good doctor's talk. " _All_ of her records."

Valerio frowns and his eyes wander over to Sebastian briefly before the frown disappears with damning quickness as understanding seems to hit him. "Now, really, Ruben I don't think that's-"

"Now, Valerio," Ruben growls and the sound cuts through the room like a knife. Menacing and dark as it effects everyone.

Valerio goes pale. His eyes are round and fearful behind his glasses as he looks at Ruben who's doing a damn fine job of looming over the man while seated. Sebastian-

Sebastian's grateful he stayed just outside of the office as he discretely shifts the fall of his coat in front of him. Jesus fucking Christ, but that growl is hot enough to make his dick stir in tired interest. Ruben's casually threatening his way to getting what he wants without actually having to resort to outright threatening. It's all in his stance and voice, a badass confidence that Sebastian's always been a sucker for. It's the reason why he'd nearly gotten several black eyes ogling Myra's ass when they were first paired up.

"Yes, of course," Valerio relents, sounding far less enthused as he slowly stands to shuffle to the filing cabinet. Opening the wrong drawer to make a show of looking as he tries to drag his feet further. "Are you sure, though Ruben? There are some things, perhaps, that should-"

"Valerio," Ruben doesn't raise his voice but the single name is filled with a cold wrath that makes the doctor swallow hard. Sebastian too, but for his own very different reasons as that slight interest becomes more. "The file, now. Or do you need me to get it from the third drawer myself?"

The file comes out fast and is placed on the desk with an almost heartbreakingly sad look from the doctor. Ruben rests one hand on it but doesn't actually look down. His eyes are fixed hard on Valerio. Even as he tilts his head back towards the door. "A moment if you will, Seb? I'd like to discuss this with Valerio. In private."

"Sure thing, boss," Sebastian quips though neither man seems to hear him. Ruben's still staring the larger man down and Valerio is doing a fine impression of a rabbit staring into the jaws of a wolf. He reaches in to catch the door handle with two fingers and pulls it shut before stepping away.

He doesn't need to hear what's about to go down in there. It's not part of his case. It also gives him some time to deal with fact he's in a hospice, half hard, and wondering if he can get Ruben onto one of those little cots a few doors down.

"You're a fucking teenager," Sebastian shakes his head over his own libido. Half exasperated but mostly amused by it. It's been a while since he felt like this after all, and he can't really help enjoying it. "Un-fucking-believable, Castellanos."

With time to kill and not a lot left in the hospice to interest him, it's not surprising to find himself outside of Laura's room. There's no change at all from the other day. Laura still rests there like a damaged doll. Unmoving with only the machines around her letting the world know she's still breathing.

He watches her for a while and wonders if maybe this coma wasn't the best thing to happen to her. Ruben's explanations were brief. Clinical and precise as he told just enough to outline a horrifying picture of abuse that Sebastian's years as a cop are all too happy to paint in with vivid color. Disfigured and in such a public place as a hospital or hospice Laura would have been free of her dad for probably the first time in her life.

"I'm sorry, kid," Sebastian apologizes because he doesn't think anyone else is going to. Both her parents are dead, and the people who should have stepped in to stop it long ago probably don't even remember her. Valerio might but Sebastian's not going to hold out much hope for that. He nods at her still figure and turns to leave. "Real damn sorry."

"Seb-astian?" His name comes out stuttering and drawled out like it's a foreign word and stops him in his tracks. The voice is familiar enough that he turns back around and doesn't look at Laura. Instead he steps around her bed to look at the floor and the figure that was hidden from sight before.

"Leslie, right?" Sebastian's pretty sure that's the kid's name, but he's not at all sure what the guy's doing huddled in a miserable looking little ball in Laura's room. On the other side of the bed so that no one can see him until they step in. Or until he opens his mouth.

Blue eyes so pale they're nearly colorless look up at him fearfully, and Sebastian hisses. The bruise from the day before seems to have tripled in size over night and it looks downright nasty now as yellow and green add a sickly color to it. "Damn, kid."

"N-next to the train," Leslie responds and Sebastian frowns at him until he holds up something between his hands. A picture from a magazine it looks like. Crumbled and creased from constant touching. It's some travel advertising and there is a train on it when he looks with a large dam rising almost improbably in the back ground. The words are lost to the wrinkles.

"Yeah, guess you're right," Sebastian says with a grin. He doesn't touch the picture because it's obviously a well-loved treasure to the kid, and also because his arms keep flinching back slightly. Like he expects Sebastian to try to grab it away. "You like trains, Leslie?"

He puts his hands back down, bringing the picture close to his chest and nods. "Like trains, like trains, like trains," the repeating seems to be a thing for him. Nervous and linked to something, but the kid himself seems harmless. "Leslie, will go home. Go home on a train. Someday."

"Yeah? Sounds nice," Sebastian says and then takes a step back as his ears catch what sounds like his name being called. Valerio. Huh, that went quicker than he thought. "Well, I got to go..."

He trails off as Leslie's head jerks up and he reads the fear on it easily. The kid's hiding here and he doesn't want to be found.

"Hey, I won't tell anyone you're here. Laura could use some company, right? Why don't you talk to her," he suggests as he hears his name called again. A vague remembrance of the unconscious still being able to hear flitting through his mind as he backs out of the room. Leslie sitting up enough to watch him over the bed. "I'll bet she's never heard the stories you can tell."

"She can't hear," the words chase him out of the room. Low and mournful enough to raise the hairs on the back of his neck even as they fade into a mutter. "She can't hear, she can't..."


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm trying to piece this fic back together. I think I've recovered as much as I'm ever going to get from my dead computer. I am trying though. This chapter originally went [differently](http://ashestodustdusttoashes.tumblr.com/post/116149763348/think-im-going-to-piece-by-choice-back-together). I may end up putting together a fic of discarded scenes later on.

Sebastian doesn’t see Valerio. He does find Ruben near the hall leading out. A still statue carved from marble for all the give that his face has. He’s holding the file still with fingers that are bending the stiff cover a little too much. His eyes flick to Sebastian once but give nothing away as he notes the direction he came from. "I’m done here.”

"Don’t you want to see Laura?" The question slips out before Sebastian can stop it. Curiosity overpowering the promise he didn’t actually voice aloud to hide Leslie.

"No," Ruben says with more control than he obviously has. Ruben’s holding onto it tightly and with a kind of fragile air about it that lets Sebastian know he’s going to be losing it soon. "She wouldn’t appreciate it if I went to her while...."

Ruben trails off and doesn’t start again. Simply walks out through the door leaving Sebastian to follow after. The white ends of his coat flutter in the wind, and Sebastian catches sight of a few people loitering down the street. They weren’t there when he pulled up, and their blatant staring makes it obvious who they’re hanging out to see.

Ruben ignores them with practiced ease, but it doesn't help his mood. Sebastian’s got a general idea of where the church is, and heads that way without trying to persuade Ruben it'll be better to go home first. The air in the car is tense and leaves him bracing himself for an outburst he knows is coming. 

Ruben is tightly leashed though. He keeps his words to himself until they're out of the main part of the town and then they come out with a quiet force that's as effective as a shout. "Pull over."

Sebastian eases the car over to an empty patch of gravel without thinking, but before he can ask why Ruben’s out of the car. He throws the car into park and gets out after him. The tails of Ruben's coat flutter as he paces along the road restlessly for a little bit before stopping. Breathing harsh and loud like he's run there the whole way from the hospice.

"I hate this town," Ruben says and his voice is growlingly low. Filled with the same loathing as when he spoke of his parents. Elk River lies spread out below them. The road leading up to the hill just high enough to get a good view of the entire town. "I _hate_ these people."

Ruben turns and doesn’t give Sebastian a chance to try to figure out what the hell to say to that. Pushing him fast and hard enough that he falls back with a curse onto the warm hood of the car. "What the fuck!?”

The thin metal of the hood wasn’t meant to hold the weight of two, full grown men and the sounds it makes as it dents make that loud and clear. Ruben doesn’t seem to give a damn though as he crawls up over Sebastian. His eyes lit up with anger and something almost gleeful that makes Sebastian's gut clench tight in anticipation.

"How much time have you spent in small towns, Seb?" Ruben asks as his fingers spider out around his face. Tilting his head up and holding him still so he can't look away at all even if Sebastian were to try.

"Enough," he grits out as he reacts to their close proximity even though sex looks like the last thing on Ruben's mind right now.

The hood gives a little more with every shift they make. Sebastian tries not to move too much despite wanting to. He reaches up to hold Ruben around the sides to keep him from moving too much. "What are you-"

"They’re full of interfering hypocrites," Ruben shoves him again and keeps both hands on his chest. Glaring down at him as he shifts up further. The hood groans and pings under them. His expression not doing much at all to pull Sebastian's mind away from sex. "Always so _happy_ to lecture but they never follow their own damn advice."

"Ruben," Sebastian warns and pushes up against his hands before he gets shoved into the windshield, and probably through it going by the banked rage in Ruben's face. His words are spit out with rage and he sounds like every teenage punk Sebastian's had to deal with in his career.

Whining about how unfair the world is and how no one ever understands them. Except they were all pimpled faced brats with no idea at all of what they're bitching about, and Ruben....

Ruben does know. Far better than most people do, and the anger of that understanding blasts out around Sebastian as the man vents.

"They pretend they're all so much better than me," Ruben growls as he rages against the past and the present. His eyes look almost yellow as his fingers dig painfully into Sebastian. "As if they've done something great when all they've done is wallow in their stupidity! And even when they do see, even when they know-!"

Sebastian moves his hands up to carefully grab Ruben by the back of the head. Fingers as gentle as he can make them even as he firmly pulls the now full on ranting man down into a kiss. Teeth bite at his lips as Ruben snarls and rages against the world still, but Sebastian keeps his kiss soft. Pulling back when Ruben tries to devour him, and physically holding him back when he pushes forward.

Slowly, the noises the man is making die down, and his body stops shaking. Ruben moves with Sebastian's hands reluctantly until he seems to collapse. His body devoid of the emotions he was throwing around and pliant. Small tremors wrack his body as Sebastian carefully curves his arms around him to hold him. The kiss turning from one to two to six until Ruben is calm again.

There's no tears in Ruben's deceptively still eyes when he pushes away. Fingers brushing over his lips as he stares down at Sebastian. There is surprise there, and a touch of something that Sebastian can't quite place as the man slides back and off the hood of the car. He walks to the car without looking at him again, his voice flat, "A mile further will take us to the church."

The passenger door slams shut, leaving Sebastian on the hood alone to put together that little minor roller coaster of emotion. He runs a hand over his face and through his hair before slowly easing off the hood. Wincing at every pop he hears as the hood tries to reform itself. 

Ruben looks unfazed, and he's looking away from Sebastian. Fear, Sebastian realizes with a jolt as he pretends to study the hood. That last thing he'd seen in Ruben's eyes had been fear.

"Jesus, fuck," Sebastian mutters as he decides the hood's not too badly deformed to hurt the engine. He takes a steadying breath before shoving that all away and walking around to get back into the car.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bunnies. I swear they are bunnies.

The church is nowhere near where Sebastian would have guessed, and he is glad for Ruben's directions clipped as they are. No way in hell would he have found it on his own. Not even with a map and written directions. It's damned strange. Stranger when the church itself comes in sight. It's something straight out of a Hollywood movie. Older looking than it possibly can be with arches, stained glass windows, and statues that look medieval. Sebastian's not one to really appreciate art or architecture. It's not his thing really. He knows just enough to know that the church is something people would go nuts over, and travel from far away to come see. He doesn't get why it's so hidden.

"Mother fancied herself an art collector," Ruben says after Sebastian’s sits for a long while to squint up at a massive statue of an angel guarding the stairs leading up to the door. Gleaming white and looking close to being able to move on its own with all the details in it. "The church gave her outlet for her larger acquisitions that wouldn't do to be seen around our home."

Sebastian doesn’t want to think about how much money acquiring something of that size cost. The church is quiet and serene looking when he steps out of the car. There’s no cars hanging around in the discretely hidden lot, but a small access road winds around the building and out of sight. Gravel crunches under his feet as he eyes the road as far as he can.

"Anyone live here?" Sebastian asks after hearing the other door open. The air in the car had been tense for the remainder of the drive, but the sight of the church and its statues seems to have knocked whatever the fuck that was --is?-- right out of them.

"The Pastor, when it suited him," Ruben shrugs and closes the door. He’s not holding Laura’s files anymore and Sebastian can’t see it anywhere obvious through the window. "Alone. I doubt anyone else would have taken up residence since his disappearance. From what I understand the building has been locked up until some new clergy can be sent."

Which can’t be more perfect than if he’d thrown a wad of cash around to make it happen that way. If it’s true. "All right, I’m going to have a look around. You should,” Sebastian trails off only because he’s talking to the back of Ruben’s head.

Of course, because if life is going to see fit to throw him an easy situation, it’s going to damn well make sure he pays for it in other ways. Sebastian’s dealt with a few clients who were far too interested in his work. Clients who asked needlessly detailed questions, and clients who insisted on tagging along. Both are their own special kind of hell, and Sebastian knew this was coming. As relatively nice as the hospice visit was that was still Ruben’s show and Sebastian had just kept back to let him deal with it. Here and now? This is Sebastian’s show, but Ruben really doesn't seem like the kind of guy to just stand back.

"Generally," Sebastian says as he falls into step with the man, and veers left to follow the service road out of sight. Ruben follows without comment after a few steps. Sebastian allows himself to be cautiously optimistic about the following without question thing. "I do this kind of looking around alone. It’d make it easier to bail me out for trespassing if you stayed back in the car."

"I won’t have to bail you out if I’m here," Ruben says shortly, and, yeah, Sebastian’s not going to get him to back off subtly at all. Kidman’s pointed reminders from previous experience about who’s paying whom runs through his mind. "Technically, I own most of this."

"I don’t think that’s how things work with churches," Sebastian spots a small door hidden neatly in a recessed area towards the back. Plain but worn looking and leading out into an area that looks like a workshop of sorts. There’s a layer of dirt on most of the equipment that speaks about misuse that goes longer than a few months. Maybe the church was in trouble more than he's been able to find out. His experience with them is limited, but he does know they usually hire people to take care of all the mundane tasks like cleaning. "Huh, wonder what happened to the caretaker."

"What?"

Sebastian ignores the question and tries the door. Locked, of course. Sebastian pulls out the set of lock picks he keeps on him all the time these days. He’s not the best and he’s not the quickest, but it doesn’t take him all that long to get the old lock clicking open. The knob sticks a bit when he twists it but the door opens with a shove of his shoulder.

There's a name for this. For the area of the church that isn't open to the public and looks more like a home than anything else, but damned if Sebastian knows what it is. He walks in, ears alert for any sound but only hears his own breathing and the soft footfalls as Ruben follows him in.

"What are you looking for here?" Ruben asks after a bit. Honest curiosity in his voice. He's looking at a small table in the hall when Sebastian turns around. Fingers idly flipping the mail that's been piled on it high enough to start falling off onto the floor. Sebastian almost snaps at him not to touch anything, but this isn't a crime scene and he's also kind of sure Ruben doesn't have fingerprints anymore.

"Pictures. You know mutilated animals or freakishly candid headshots," Sebastian says and kicks at the fallen envelopes enough to see that they're mostly bills. Official looking things that don't bear the slanted writing on the letters Ruben has shown him. Which doesn't mean the disturbing pictures haven't been sent before now. "Anything that might link the pastor's disappearance to Cabrera. Or, even better, something that shows he had nothing to do with it."

"Why would that be better?" Ruben abandons the table and begins to open doors. Revealing a kitchen, a few bedrooms with no personal effects, and a study. Filled with books but far too neat looking for Sebastian's peace of mind. "We're looking for him."

"If the pastor ran off to Mexico to live a life of sin then we don't have to chase down anything more on him," Sebastian zeroes in on the desk as Ruben wanders to the shelves. He almost trips as he catches the casual use of 'we'. "If Cabrera was sending his candid photos to him then I have to track down Graciano's movements. See who he was talking to, what he was telling them. Find out if he mentioned anything about Cabrera or if he had any plans regarding it all. Maybe see if the old man got lucky enough to learn anything. Lot of tracking and a lot of talking."

Rehashing too if the local cops got brought in on it. Unlikely going by what Ruben's told him before, but missing priests don't just go unnoticed no matter how screwed up a force is. His thoughts are justified when he starts going through the desk and feels the familiar grit of powder. 

It's fine, just a trace of it left when he rubs his fingers together. Which means not only was the place gone through, it was also cleaned back up afterwards. There's holes in the desk too. Empty gaps where things have been taken out and no way of knowing what they were now. Sebastian rifles through everything quickly but all that's left is basic stuff. Office supplies and papers that look like they're dealing with the everyday chores of running a place.

Even the shelves have been combed through. Sebastian notes the empty holes in them when he looks up. A book here, a few more there. Spread out through all the shelves so that he knows there's no way anything important --and they'd have to be important because who wants some priest's books?-- was missed. "What's that?"

Ruben is on the far end of the room. A small, nondescript book cradled in one hand and his head bowed over it. He looks up slowly after a second and blinks at Sebastian. Caught engrossed and Sebastian feels amused despite himself.

"Cattle disease mostly," Ruben doesn't even pretend to be embarrassed at getting distracted, but then it's not really his job to find the kind of clues Sebastian was hoping for. He closes the book but doesn't put it back on the shelf even as he starts to scan them again. "There was a plague a while back. It wiped out most of the livestock around here. Forced a lot of farms under, and the local economy hasn't quite recovered just yet from it."

Small place losing it's best revenue source and then the banks come in and foreclose places. Puts them all up for sale so that the rich Ernesto can start buying up land. The displaced cattle farmers get upset and resentful enough to look for some payback. It's a useless fact in the long run, but Sebastian feels satisfaction in slotting it into place anyway.

"Right," Sebastian steps away and doesn't even try to read the titles on the shelf. He's rather confident there's nothing there and it'll give Ruben something to do. "I'm going to take a quick look at the rest of the place."

Ruben hums and reaches for a book as Sebastian ditches him. It still rankles that he's babysitting but Ruben does have a point. If anyone comes in all Sebastian will have to do is point at the engrossed bookworm for an excuse.

He grimaces at the swell of warm affection at that thought. _Christ. Really, Sebastian?_

There's nothing in the guest rooms. Blankets, towels, basic toiletries, and enough clothing in different sizes that Sebastian thinks this is Elf River's version of a shelter. Downright hospitable considering how far they go out of their way to keep it secret. There's a kitchen with a dining room table in it too. The fridge is empty but the cupboards are stocked with cans and boxes. It's cleaner than the rest of the place.

He stops in another bedroom. This one has more life to it though, and a deep almost ingrained scent of tobacco. The closet is filled with clothes and Pastor Graciano was a large man going by the size of the pants hung up neatly. There's a dresser with more clothes, a book shelf that's filled with dust in the shape of books no longer there, and a side table next to the bed that only has a cracked pair of glasses in it.

"You're fucking kidding me," even turning the place over for hidden caches and holes doesn't turn anything more up. There's an impression of something under the mattress, and a loose board in the corner that leads to a very clean and empty hole. Nothing else at all turns up.

It's completely clean. Way too clean for a buddy coming by and swiping the good pastor's porn to keep his name good. There's something really shady about the amount of stuff that's missing, but Sebastian's damned if he can figure out how --or if-- it even relates to Cabrera and Ruben. It makes every instinct he has go off with a wild need to run this particular lead into the ground until he's wrung every secret there is out of it.

That's as much his personal interest in it as Ruben's, and Sebastian pauses as he leaves the room with the confusing realization that those two things aren't being separated as much as they should in his mind. Well, what the hell did he expect when he let himself get dragged into bed by the man? 

Not something to be thinking about now though.

Sebastian pushes through a discrete looking door that leads out into the business portion of the building. The church proper isn’t like anything that Sebastian’s ever seen before. Sure, he’s not all that religious anymore, and hasn’t been in too many churches since he was in high school. He’s still pretty sure churches are supposed to be focused on a cross though. Usually one with a crucified Jesus stuck on it.

"Huh," he stares up at the statue dominating the view. A robed woman with serene face that looks stern from the shadows of the hood over the face. The Virgin Mary he supposes, but she's not holding a child like he'd expect. It's just her. Strange.

Light comes in mostly from the stained glass windows on the side of the building making the entire place glow with a soft light as he walks up to the front pews. The air is still and serene in a way that's not all that different from any other silence, but seems heavier in this building.

He's sees the symbols when he gets closer. They looked like designs from far, but up close he can see they're too irregular. They look like runes or something straight out of a horror movie about witches or cults. Definitely not something that belongs in a _church_.

"What the hell did they worship here?" Sebastian's not religious. Not at all, but the runes and implications are disturbing.

"Eternal life."

Sebastian starts a bit. He hadn't heard Ruben follow him out at all. Too absorbed by the unsettling altar to note the other man's presence. Ruben's looking up at the statue with narrowed eyes, a few books tucked securely under his arm. His lips quirking up in a slight sneer that looks like it drags uncomfortably on his face.

"Yeah? Think that's the basis for most religions," Sebastian points out and steps back from the altar to lean against the first row of seats.

"After death," Ruben says and the sneer increases for a brief second. Stating without words very clearly his opinion on it all. "This church promised eternal life now though. When it really matters, and the faithful lap it up obediently. As if _praying_ and throwing money at the church is the secret to immortality."

"They really sell that shit here?" And people really buy it? Of course they do. Sebastian's seen a lot of pretty reasonable people buy loads of ridiculous bullshit just because the person telling it was a priest. "Get on your knees often enough and you'll never die? I know some prostitutes in the city who'd beg to differ."

The sneer melts into an amused smirk as Ruben turns his head to _look_ at Sebastian. His gaze is heated in a way that makes Sebastian want to groan and slam his head into one of the stone columns at how fast it gets him focused on sex again. There's real consideration in that look too as Ruben takes in the whole room. Calculating.

"No," Sebastian says but he doesn't move away when Ruben drops the books and comes closer.

"They're very pious, the people who come here. Service is every day, sometimes twice when they feel like it's needed. Three, four hours of kneeling on the ground," Ruben's fingers are light but insistent on his shoulders, and Sebastian's knees bend despite him knowing he really should just get them the hell out of there. Do this anywhere else except here. "Mouthing the correct words like they actually mean something secret, and ignoring everything wrong with it all."

The stone floor is cool and Sebastian thinks about kneeling on it for hours, and then he's not thinking about that at all. Not thinking about anything but the rough fingers that spider out across his face for the second time in less than an hour. Still firm and insistent even as the drag of his fingers across Sebastian's lips is suggestive. 

"Maybe they are not entirely wrong. There's something about kneeling that's rather striking," Ruben's smiling slightly, his eyes fixed on Sebastian's mouth. "I wouldn't call it the answer to immortality though."

"Well, obviously no one's been doing it right," the loose pants don't hide much and hell if Sebastian's going to protest much right now. He's already on his knees and that's excuse enough to sink the rest of his reluctance. Temptation has never really been something he's good at resisting. "Maybe you just need to do something more than pray."

It's a terrible line and Ruben doesn't even acknowledge it as Sebastian pulls open his pants. They slip down his thin hips and Sebastian growls a little because Ruben didn't bother putting anything on under it and he's already half hard as Sebastian reaches in. Fingers making Ruben hiss as he rakes his fingers up to tangle in Sebastian's hair.

This isn't something he's done in a good while though he's been tempted a time or two this past year. To get down on his knees and blow someone is not on his top five list of fun times, but it really doesn't take a lot of finesse to get a guy going with just his mouth. Ruben groans when he runs his lips down the underside of his length. His fingers tighten and Sebastian's already resigning himself to losing some hair as he opens his mouth to lick back up to the head. Tongue pressing flat and firm against Ruben.

Ruben _keens_ and shudders over him when Sebastian opens his mouth to suck in the leaking head of his dick. Tongue swiping off the bitter fluid leaking out slowly. Ruben's hips buck forward and Sebastian pulls back. Gets one hand around the base of the dick to keep himself from being choked too easily before he closes his lips back around the head and _sucks_.

The shout of mixed surprise and pleasure echoes in the church. Louder with each bob of his head and stroke of his hand. Whoever gets worshipped here, whatever gets preached; Sebastian's sure this is nothing but pure blasphemy.

The thought gets him hard enough to break down doors with his dick and Sebastian reaches down to relieve the pressure. By passing his belt and just ripping the fly open. Grateful that Ruben's not the only one who decided commando was the way to go today. He groans at the feel of his own hand. Dry and calloused but feeling so good. Better than it has a right to. The weight and glide of a hard dick in his mouth and the _sounds_ the younger man makes burn straight through him.

Fingers twist painfully in Sebastian's hair. An attempt at a control that's impossible. Like damn near every move Ruben's made these past two --no, _three_ \-- days. Every word and gesture.

It's a flash of insight that doesn't stop him from moaning around Ruben or moving the hand jerking himself off. This is what Ruben's been after from the start. Maybe even before they'd met. There's not enough blood in his head to think of why though, and Sebastian lets the knowledge settle in his mind for later to concentrate on the now and what _he_ wants.

Sebastian wants to lay Ruben out and take him apart piece by piece. Find every sensitive spot on his body and hammer away at them until Ruben can't even _think_. Break that tight control he's desperately trying to keep even now with his dick stretching Sebastian's lips open.

Ruben's trying to guide the pace to something he can handle. Slow or fast don't matter though when Sebastian sucks hard on the leaking head and groans on the slide in. There's no maintaining control when a man's getting blown and the helpless noises Ruben's making show that he's starting to understand that now.

Sebastian laughs and the vibration makes Ruben growl and hunch over him. Grip his head tight with both hands, fingers digging into his scalp instead of pulling Sebastian's hair. The short nails catch on a few scabs. Old injuries that reopen with a flair of pain as Sebastian takes a measured breath, relaxes, and _swallows_.

Ruben shakes over him and Sebastian swallows again. Not stopping until Ruben's wrung out and only a small bit of come drops on Sebastian's tongue as he pulls back. Ruben's soft dick sliding out of his mouth with a moan from them both. The hands on his head are more support now as Ruben leans all his weight on him.

Sebastian takes a few deep breaths and leans into him. Nose and lips pressed to the exposed vee of scarred skin as he mercilessly jerks off. Hard, fast strokes just the way he needs them to be to get off. Three and four more pulls until he comes with the smell and taste of Ruben still in him.

All over the goddamn floor and Sebastian's bitching himself out over it even as he keeps stroking. Ringing the last bits of it out.

He's barely got a second to enjoy it before Ruben's weight is gone. Abruptly enough it's almost like a shove. Sebastian catches himself on a palm and grimaces at the way his knees protest the movement. At the way his knees protest _period_. Ruben's face is utterly blank as he backs away. No grace at all as he picks his books back up.

"I'll be outside," Ruben says. The words as emotionless as his expression though the abruptness speaks loudly as he walks away without waiting for an answer.

Sebastian manages to keep the smirk in until Ruben's gone.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello Ruvik.

It takes Sebastian some time to find paper towels and bleach in the kitchen. The place looks like it's already been processed but no way in hell is he going to leave that up to chance. The last thing Sebastian needs is to explain why his spunk's all over a church floor.

There's nothing else to be found. Plenty more rooms but nothing jumps out at Sebastian. If there really are catacombs under the place the entrance to it's been sealed up too well for him to even guess where it is. He looks closer at the obvious places anyway. Wasting time and letting Ruben cool down.

The smirk he's wearing needs to cool down too but that's not likely to happen.

Control is a thing with Ruben. Sebastian's noted it almost from the first meeting. Makes sense for a man who doesn't have control of so much in his life even now. And maybe knocking his legs out from under him like that was a dick move, but Sebastian can't bring himself to regret it. 

He hadn't seen it, but Sebastian's willing to bet big bucks that look of fear had come back to Ruben's face in the end. When Sebastian had ripped that tightly wound control away from him so easily. As easily as he'd been able to divert his anger even earlier. Ruben's never dealt with anyone able to do that to him before. That's very obvious and Sebastian won't lie that it isn't a hell of thing to know he's got that kind of thing with Ruben.

It's getting obvious that Ruben's not used to really dealing with people though, or at least not with people who aren't paid to nod their heads and smile all the time.

He's not the kind of rich snob that steps all over the backs of people just to show he can. No, he does it because he's _used_ to it, and doesn't even realize that's what he's doing. Sebastian's let him get away with it so far. The combination of Kidman's voice in his head barking 'Paying client!' and the initial pity of seeing Ruben's scars making Sebastian keep his mouth shut longer than he usually does. Getting laid hadn't helped with that at all either.

It really is a minor miracle that Sebastian hasn't pushed back before now, and Ruben's going to get to appreciate that fact pretty soon. All the twists this case keeps taking aren't going to be enough to keep him cautious. It'll be good in the long run for Ruben to learn he can't dictate every single little thing. Especially not when it comes to other people.

Sebastian eventually leaves off inspecting the large statue to walk away. More in the dark than before about the good Pastor, but almost cheerful about the pissy face he knows he's going to be getting all the way back to the manor.

~

It's the cold, silent treatment all the way back to the manor, and Sebastian has a hard time _not_ laughing at it.

Ruben's face is set with utter fury that relaxes into an impassive nothingness, but Sebastian can see the way his eyes dart around. He's planning something. Retaliation. Sebastian's honestly looking forward to it. To what Ruben might do to prove he still has control as he stalks into the manor with an economy of motion that almost looks frightening.

Sebastian follows more slowly. Taking his time to burn a cigarette before entering the manor and locking the door behind him. It's never been locked which is a shitty security breach with Cabrera still out there. He's thinking of checking the rest of the place out, looking at every door and window when the air shifts behind him.

Pain blooms bright and blinding. Cut off fast by overwhelming darkness.

~

_"You'll move only when I say to move," Ruben snarls. There's red in his teeth and Sebastian can taste it as he swallows. Rage rolls off him and Sebastian moans as his head is forced back. "I own you! Never forget that!"_

Sebastian spins his phone on the desk in the library and watches the irregular light bounce off the far too shiny case. The room is still and quiet until it isn't anymore.

_There's something large and painful attached to his head. He feels it when Ruben moves his head. There's a sharp pain and pricking that gets lost in Ruben's burning eyes. "This isn't working. You're distracting me!"_

There's a wall of stuffed and mounted animal heads. Sebastian stares at them and feels a strange kinship that makes him want to laugh. The emotion is dull though. Buried deep under layers of haze. There's an open bottle of scotch on a table nearby that Sebastian observes with the same sort of detachment.

Something screams and claws at him, but there's nothing there when he turns around.

_"Take it," Ruben says as he splays his fingers over Sebastian’s cheeks. Keeping his head tilted up painfully so that he has no choice but to look up into his burning eyes. "Do it now."_

_Sebastian can’t stop moving even as the restraints on the chair keep him from moving too much. He’s split open and raw. The rod deep inside of him, attached somehow so he can move on it. Can fuck himself as Ruben watches with a dark and hungry gaze. "You're mine."_

_"Yes," Sebastian chokes out. Over and over again until something that had been loud before --denying and screaming-- breaks under that._

"You're useless," Ruben leans over him and the ceiling looks like the bathroom, but Sebastian can't tell anything else as he focuses on Ruben's face. Drawn tight with displeasure and Sebastian thinks something else but it's not worth the trouble of remembering what now. "I can't _use_ you like this. Why do you have to be so difficult about this?"

Sebastian stares and doesn't understand. Doesn't care and that frustrates Ruben more. His fingers dig into his face and the scars on his face look close to tearing from his snarl before it eases. Before he eases and just looks resigned. "Fine."

_"I need you to be able to think for yourself more than I need you to obey me," there’s a fire in the back of his head from the head restraints that isn’t eased by the hands holding him in place. "You won't betray me now though. No matter how much you might wish you could."_

_Hand. Only one and Sebastian has enough time to worry where the other one is before he hears the familiar click and he jolts. Screams as he’s filled with lightning. The restraints biting into him as his head is cradled against the unscarred skin of Ruben’s stomach. His voice dark and delighted as it fills Sebastian as senselessly as the lightning does._


	17. Chapter 17

Sebastian rinses the razor out under the tap and doesn’t look into the mirror as he puts it away. His mind is drifting as he wonders if there’s any other mirrors in the mansion. He doesn’t think there are but he can’t remember if he tried looking for himself or asked. 

He runs his thumb over the basin of the sink. It’s going cruddy from hard water and a few small hairs have been encased in it. It’s looking like his sink gets at home when he hasn’t cleaned it for a good few weeks.

He wipes his face off on a towel and wanders into the dining room. There’s eggs on a plate with toast and sausage. Breakfast.

Sebastian sits in front of it and stares down at the food that’s still steaming a little. Breakfast is in the morning and he’s mostly sure that it’s supposed to be dinner right now. It’s hard to tell with the curtains shut tight though. The ornate mantel piece clock that used to be in the room is gone too. Sebastian can’t remember when he saw it last, and that should alarm him.

A lot of things, Sebastian realizes, should alarm him. Starting with the hands that land on his shoulders from behind.

"Are you going to eat?" Ruben asks and there’s just enough wrong there in his voice that Sebastian knows he’s not going to be eating a single scrap of food on his plate.

"I don’t know, are you going to stop drugging me?" Sebastian asks as he looks up at Ruben. Strangely empty of anger, or just not feeling it like he should because he’s sure that anger’s there somewhere in him. He can feel it trying to escape but it gets held back every time. Redirected elsewhere, away from Ruben.

Ruben tilts his head and studies him closely. Fascination filters across his face as he reaches out to run two fingers down Sebastian’s cheek. The touch is light and welcome, and Sebastian can’t stop the way he leans into it. Can’t stop the way his gut clenches as Ruben smiles, dark and terrifying in a way that fits his face so much better than any other smile he’s seen on the man before.

"Maybe," Ruben says and curls his fingers under Sebastian’s jaw. Pulling him up from the table with only a little pressure and into a biting kiss that leaves them both breathless and panting. He pulls away just far enough to growl, "Once I’m sure you’re completely mine."

The possessive thread in his voice makes Sebastian shiver. In fear and want, and he follow wordlessly as Ruben leads him deep into the mansion.

~

"Sit in the chair," Ruben says after a rather long walk through the depths of the mansion. Through more halls and rooms than Sebastian had thought the place could hold. Rooms filled with the kind of things nightmares are made of and through areas that smelled of that special sickly sweet rot of decaying bodies. Down stairs and past locked doors and open doors. Doors where voices had rung out of and one in particular that Sebastian was fairly sure was Higgins who laughed and laughed as they walked by.

"Why?" Sebastian is oddly detached from it all. He should be horrified, angry, disgusted. He’s not, and right now he can feel it. All those things he’d normally feel locked up tight by something numbing. A compulsion almost. One that moves with Ruben’s looks and beats in time with his words.

Sebastian wants to sit in the chair like he was told to. No questions asked, just whatever Ruben wanted. It’s a large part of him wrapped around the rest of him that wants to do the exact opposite. To not sit in the chair and run as far from the man as he can get. Possibly after punching him. With the conflicting desires, Sebastian aims for a middle ground and ignores the need to sit when Ruben turns a narrow, irritated look on him.

"To finish what I started. Your mind is dangerously open right now, Seb. You’ve reached the point I need you to be at. If you keep going further your sense of self will collapse too much to be of use," Ruben watches him closely and intently. There’s no trace of fear at all on him. No doubt at all that anything will come of his admittance. "If I wanted blind, unquestioning obedience and loyalty I would have gotten a dog. I need someone I can trust, while still being capable of independent _thought_."

Sebastian doesn’t understand it, and part of that is probably due to the fact that his mind is open. Whatever the fuck that means. He reaches out and runs his fingers over the chair. It’s a high-backed thing that looks like it was taken from an execution room. There’s straps at the arms and legs, and a terrifying head restraint on the top fitted with more wires than he thinks is strictly needed. He tests the leather of the restraints and the touch isn’t unfamiliar at all. "You’ve put me in this before. What did you do to me, Ruben?”

"Ruvik, call me that. Ruben died a long time ago," the man says before crossing the room to stand on the other side of the chair. His eyes are intent but it’s mostly curiosity that fills them now as he watches Sebastian. "I made you loyal, to me. Opened your mind up to make you more susceptible, and removed any possibilities of you harming me."

"Why?" Sebastian asks. The lack of expected anger makes him feel almost light headed, even as it makes his mind sharp enough to study Rub- _Ruvik_. Even that name sounds familiar, and Sebastian wonders how long he’s been here. Not just in this room, but in Ruvik’s care.

Ruvik’s wandered these dark and dangerous looking halls comfortably. Like the dangerous weapons and instruments in each room are nothing more than just another statue in his own home. No, like these hidden areas _are_ his home and the brighter rooms out front are the stage he wanders through with a mask that doesn’t look like a mask only because most people are distracted by the scars and bandages.

Bandages he hasn’t bothered with too much this morning, and Sebastian wonders if he was genuinely distracted or if he’s just already subconsciously used to seeing the uncovered scarred flesh of Ruvik’s face. The patches of dark and whorled skin that line his jaw and right side, sweeping up his lower lip, and darkening the right side of his head completely where an ear used to be. There’s an odd curve to that side of his skull that it takes Sebastian a moment to realize might be a plate of some kind.

"Your skull was smashed?" Sebastian reaches out to touch in fascination and Ruvik stops him with a firm grip.

"Yes, now it’s time for you to choose, Sebastian," Ruvik lets go and takes one step back. "Are you going to sit, Seb?"

Choice. It seems a strange thing to offer, but Sebastian knows it's really not. Can recognize the trap even as he's apathetic to its consequences.

Ruvik has done all he can, pushed as far as he dared with drugs and whatever this machine is, but the next part is Sebastian’s. Sebastian needs to make a choice. One that will end in his death or his permanent enslavement. He doesn’t know how he came to those two choices but he doesn’t doubt them at all once he thinks about them.

He feels remarkably good for a man who has had his free will caged, and the fact that he recognizes that he can’t make a truly consenting choice makes him wonder exactly how much of him is being suppressed by that compulsion.

"Fine," Sebastian chooses even though it shouldn’t feel like a choice at all. He chooses and sits in the damn chair. Puts his own hands into the straps and even tightens one down before giving Ruvik a look filled with irritation and all the ire he can manage to scrape together. "But stop fucking _drugging_ me. You’re really bad at covering the taste of it up."

Ruvik looks amused as the head restraints pinch tight around his skull. "You keep surprising me, Seb.”

There’s a click that’s familiar and Sebastian drops like a stone before he can even feel anything.


	18. Chapter 18

Sebastian wakes up clear headed and thinking right for the first time in a good while. He’s in bed and alone. How he got here is one of many questions he’ll need answers to. He’s pretty sure that Ruvik couldn’t have managed it on his own. Not without causing himself some pretty significant strain and possible damage.

But he's been so very wrong about Ruvik before that he won't be surprised if the fucker did it.

There’s a small area of pain just at where the base of his skull is. A throbbing ball that's turning into a low grade headache. He hisses as he gently touches around the tender area, but the pain doesn't increase when he leaves it alone at least. His mouth tastes like a hundred old pennies and he grimaces as he runs his tongue around his teeth. There’s no blood that he can find, but who the hell knows what exactly Ruvik did with that machine.

The clothes he's wearing fit him, and look like something he'd pick out himself but they're not anything he's brought with him. How the hell long has he been here?

Sebastian crawls out of the bed and doesn't feel any other pain as his feet hit the cold floor. He's not wearing socks and he almost lets himself get angry over that. Get angry over such a small and insignificant thing just because he _can_.

Can in a way that he's quickly finding out he can't feel with Ruvik. Just thinking about the man banks the anger, and leaves Sebastian with no doubts that all that crazy shit about owning him and making him loyal have happened. He thinks about punching the man, hurting him in any way possible. He tries to get angry in a way his whole mind keeps telling him he shouldn't and when he presses for it anyway the pain doubles. Lancing through his head with the force of a gunshot. Almost dropping him to his knees until he stops thinking, stops reaching for the anger, and it quickly fades back to a manageable level.

"Shit!" Sebastian rubs at his head. Carefully avoiding the spots that flare with the motion of his scalp moving. Fuck but he doesn't want to know why those are there. Doesn't want to but he's going to anyway. Soon as he finds Ruvik.

The manor is still and silent as usual. Nothing different about it that Sebastian can see. There's a timeless quality to the place that doesn't help with the jumble that are his memories. He paces the halls he swears he's never seen before, but his feet know instinctively. Empty rooms with layers of undisturbed dust, a few with hand and foot prints cutting through it. A very masculine study filled with dull-eyed trophy heads, and stinking of alcohol. Shards of glass glitter all over the floor and Sebastian's not surprised in the least by it. Vague stirrings of memory making him wonder if it was his hand that brought that destruction down.

There's more rooms on the first floor but Sebastian goes to the back. Past closed doors to one that doesn't look any different than any others but leads to a set of stairs. Air moves through the open door. Thick and dank with a scent that's familiar to his subconsciousness. The basement is exactly what he'd expect from a psychotic recluse. Filthy with more than just the usual grime and dust. 

There's blood, old and not as old, in some of the rooms he passes. Cells. Small little rooms that are empty as he passes them now. There's equipment stacked haphazardly around. Half surgery ward, and half demented metal workshop. Sebastian follows the sounds of movement to what looks like a second library. Less clean and with far more notes laying around.

Ruvik sits hunched over a desk. He's wearing a hooded robe with stains along te sleeves and bottom, a loose pair of pants, and nothing else. The exposed scarring is terrible to look at but he feels no pity. None at all as Ruvik turns to look at him, because there's nothing weak in the assessing gaze pinning him down. Pale blue that looks almost colorless now against the vivid color of his scarring, and every bit as intense as ever.

He still doesn't feel any anger. He's frustrated and pissed at that fact, but there's a part of him that's sitting up eagerly. Glad to see the man, like a fucking dog.

He's been broken somehow.

Understanding comes and goes but that fact is solid in his mind. That fact but not much else.

"What-" the question dies in his throat because he doesn't want to know that. He's lived it and the nightmarish recollections are thankfully dull and devoid of emotion in his mind. He doesn't need a technical explanation of the process. Shit'd fly right over his head anyway. " _Why_?"

Why do it, why him, why the fuck anything. All good questions that still don't feel right with the eerie lack of anger in him as he stares Ruvik down.

"I'm vulnerable," Ruvik's eyes narrow in distaste at the admittance. "My work is important and nearly finished. It'll be moved soon and I need to follow it. Out of my home and into _theirs_."

"And that's a bad thing how?" Annoyance seems to work just fine still and Sebastian latches onto the negative emotion gladly. Ruvik's hinting around things again. A personal flaw apparently and not just an act.

"I'm protected here. The jealous idiots I work with can't touch me, but I'll lose that at the hospital," the manor around him is filled with an armory of weaponry around. It's like a shell for him. A maze to protect a man still weak from decade old injuries and a tendency to experience seizures. "I know the people I work for. They won't hesitate to take me out once they think they can do my work on their own."

"Pretty sure you could pay to have a bodyguard," Sebastian says and resentment is still there too. Dull and bitter. "You know instead of mind fucking some old ex-cop into the position."

"It had to be you," Ruvik dismisses without care. He stands up to run his hands over Sebastian's forehead where the band had dug into his flesh. The headache lightens up and starts to fade under the slight touch. "They gave me a list to select an _assistant_ from. Their own personal spies mostly, and a few nuisance cases they consider worthless. You're far from worthless, Seb, but you've been getting too close for their comfort lately. Finding out things they thought couldn't be found out."

Ruvik circles close and Sebastian only flinches a little when he leans against his side. "I need a mind like that. They would have made you disappear if I hadn't taken you first."

"Who?" Sebastian shivers as Rubik checks him with clinical fingers. His palms linger though, possessively.

Ruvik's smile is all sharp edges and the precipice of a long fall as he utters the one name guaranteed to make Sebastian jump off it willingly. "Mobius."


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now I'm really departing from the new info given out by the DLC. Mostly in regards to Myra. It came too late to be easily incorporated into this fic as it stands now.

Mobius. Fucking _Mobius_.

They're the group no one speaks about but everyone seems to know is there regardless. Even when they think they're being delusionally paranoid about it. Like Myra and Brown before her. How else would a sane person think when confronted with evidence that damn near every conspiracy whack job out there was right? That the crazy and insane shit really they rant about and the world ignores is happening. That there really is a massive organization keeping a lid on it all.

Mobius.

The name had fallen into Sebastian's lap months back when he wasn't even looking for it, and he'd found some holdings and properties for them. Small things that looked like tax write offs to him. Not much else and he'd been ready to toss it as bad intel until the shifty man who'd dropped it on him died.

 _Messily_.

Shit had gotten hard after that. The wheels of bureaucracy turn slow but Sebastian's sure he won't have any sort of business license or permit by the end of the year. That there won't be any place looking to hire him long before that and that no one would ever bother looking for a homeless, jobless ex-cop. Aside from Joseph and maybe-

Fuck. "Fuck," Sebastian repeats the word out loud just to hear it. To hear himself as his cop's instinct sits up and starts going off on him.

Sebastian sits on cracked stairs that lead up from the gnawing darkness of the cellar and looks out over a back yard that's indistinguishable from the forest that's reclaiming it. Not focusing on much as suspicion sharpens in his mind and a cigarette burns to nothingness in his fingers. He reaches into his back pocket to fish out his cell phone.

The weight is familiar as he flips it around but there's no scratches or dings on it from his frequent abuses. Inevitable even though he'd made sure to get a fucking brick that could stand up to being dropped and stepped on. His call history is all Kidman, and the texts he's got are from her too. Normal stuff that he'd expect and not one damn thing asking where he is even though the last time they talked looks like it was over a week ago. There's nothing at all from Joseph. Not even his number saved in the contact screen it takes Sebastian a while to open every time. 

It's a replacement phone slipped to him sometime, and only Kidman has the number for it.

He'd been lucky to get Kidman, Sebastian remembers thinking when he first hired her. Damn lucky because she was very good at her job and that went a long way when Sebastian was under fire from all sides it'd seemed like, and the only people looking for the job wanted a paycheck to sit on their asses.

How fucking _lucky_. He ended up hiring one of the assholes he's been chasing down. Let her into a lot of things he shouldn't have, and even tried setting her up with Joseph. Only to have her turn around and hand him over to Ruvik on a silver fucking platter.

He can't hate Ruvik, can't get angry at him, but Sebastian's pretty fucking sure there's nothing stopping him from shooting Kidman in the face the next time he sees her. He takes a drag off the nearly spent cigarette. Habit because he's not really craving the nicotine from it, hasn't been craving much at all except Ruvik. Even that craving is tempered now though. Not at all like those first few days that Sebastian can remember when it seemed like he might have lost two decades off his age.

Scrolling through the call history he pieces together a rough timeline. Something harder to do than it should be because there's incoming and outgoing calls he doesn't remember making. Most are Kidman but some aren't. The outgoing are mostly local area codes and never last long. Two have Krimson numbers but only one looks like it went through. There isn't even a guarantee he's the one who made all the calls.

It's been a month though. One month since he left the city. Joseph's got to be shitting bricks. He'll move up to entire boulders when he gets the files Sebastian have on hold. Carefully squirreled away with five different contacts he never met outside of an easily lost email. Sending a monthly note to keep it until the day he misses a check in.

Which was six days ago, and Sebastian's pretty sure --zombie mode or not-- that he didn't send out that monthly check.

Christ he hadn't wanted Joseph involved in the Mobius mess, but Sebastian hadn't known who else to trust when he set that system up. It's damn good that he hadn't seriously considered Kidman for it though. There's too much blood on those files to just let them burn. Too many people have paid for that info with their lives for Sebastian to let it go. It's going to put the man on a twisted path and Sebastian hopes like hell he's straightened out his own situation when that path leads Joseph to find him.

Because it will. Sebastian's as sure of Joseph chasing down Mobius as he is of exactly where he's going to be when the man does it. He's not going back now. He can't for reasons beyond the fact that he's pretty sure Ruvik won't let him. 

Ruvik's in deep with Mobius. For his own reasons, ones that don't care if the organization is hurt or not. A stupid attitude to have when dealing with these people but Ruvik's a psychopath and doesn't give a damn about things like that. He's at least cognizant enough of the pitfalls in his attitude to know he needs someone to watch his back while he does it.

And Sebastian is the lucky fucker who gets that job, but hell if he wouldn't have volunteered if given the choice. He's got two burning reason to want to get as close to Mobius as possible.

Myra and Lily.

There's not a whole lot Sebastian won't do for his wife and daughter. Not when they were alive and not even now. He wants to see every fucking asshole responsible burn for what they did to his family, and Ruvik had smiled like a promise when Sebastian had pointed that out.

"They've about lost their usefulness to me," he'd said. Voice following Sebastian out of the dark basement and into cleaner air. "It'll be safer if they're destroyed."

Sebastian blows ashes off his fingers and thinks about it. About bringing Mobius down and getting justice for his girls. It makes it easier to think of things that way. To ignore that a good part of Sebastian would tear Mobius apart by hand just because Ruvik told him to.


	20. Chapter 20

Sebastian's a stubborn son of a bitch, but he knows when he's not going to be able to bull through a situation. Knows it's better to go with the crazy situation until he can find some sort of room to get out of it.

So, for all intents and purposes he's going to play bodyguard to Ruvik. It's eerily easy to accept. His mind had been made up for him on that, but it's taken him three burned down cigarettes to wrap his head around it. To come up with all the angles on it and what his options are.

Ruvik's not in the same room he'd left him in. Sebastian has a fun game of rediscovering the sadistic carnival that's the lower level of the manor. It's a horror movie set only missing severed limbs to fill it. He's fairly sure he's already seen some, but that's part of the hazy blur of the past month and he's not really sure he didn't see them because he expected to see them.

Sebastian doesn't bother wasting time on figuring that out. It's not important in the grand scheme, and he's got better questions that need answering from the man he finds in one of the larger rooms. Ruvik has done a good job of talking around everything. Hinting at things and throwing out the big points to get Sebastian's mind off the fact nothing he's said really explained anything. An annoying little habit he'd noticed early in their dealings, and one the man really needs to lose.

Maybe not as much as he needs to lose some of the things in the room that make Sebastian question if he's really as lucid and sane as he thinks he is.

"What the fuck is that?" Sebastian stops a few cautious feet from Ruvik and the thing he's working on. It looks like something straight out of an old science fiction movie. One where the alien robots wear aluminum foil. "Is that a _bathtub_?"

"STEM," Ruvik calls it and ignores the rest of his question as he works with a pair of pliers and a soldering iron. Doing delicate work that must be hell with his hands. He doesn't force Sebastian to play twenty questions this time though. "With it I can gain direct access to a test subject's mind. Every thought and memory. Everything that makes them an individual."

Ruvik straightens out a bundle of wires and Sebastian eyes the rust colored stains on the tub. He's mostly sure it's not all from the metal. "Looks pleasant."

"There's been a lot of failures, and this is only a prototype," Ruvik sounds annoyed by the implied insult to his machine. "I've fixed most of them and the system at Beacon is better."

Beacon Memorial. Mobius is moving Ruvik there to work on this machine? That ominously answers where all the missing people went, and now they're going to move him closer to the source of 'test subjects.'

"I'll take your word for it. _What_ is it supposed to do?" Sebastian doesn't need a manual for the damn thing. An idiot's guide will do. "What does Mobius want with something like this?"

" _They_ want it to do many things. Open a man's mind up so all his secrets are bare, and then rearrange his entire mind so he's obediently and unquestioningly loyal," Ruvik barks out a laugh that lingers in his eyes when he turns back to Sebastian. Fondness. The bastard looks at him fondly. "Easy enough to do without the power of STEM but they're the kind of people to use explosives to kill a fly."

Sebastian looks over his shoulder to one of the doors leading away. The one that leads to a room with a fucking eight foot tall spinning saw blade. Ruvik's got no place talking about overkill.

Literally, figuratively. Jesus fuck. His _life_. Sebastian's need for solid answers is dying by the second, and he can't make himself think that's a bad thing.

"It requires at least two people to work. A host mind and then however many people one terminal can handle. The host maintains control of everything and the possibilities..." There's a bit of feverish light in Ruvik's eyes as he rests a hand on the side of the tub. Staring hard at the machine and nowhere else. "Break them open, make them different. Or," his tone changes. Becomes hushed and reverent, and Sebastian can tell this is what Ruvik wants. What he's after personally. "Completely replace one mind with another."

Sebastian half expects Ruvik to start cackling like a deranged scientist. It takes him a bit of struggling with the implications to see why he might want to do that, but it's not surprising. Not after what he's learned from the man already. "Laura?"

"There's still things to work out first," the light is gone from Ruvik's eyes when he turns. He's collected and professional now. "Compatibility is an issue. Extensive use of STEM erodes the sense of self. Only strong willed people can survive long enough to complete the process, which is, of course useless, if their body is not compatible. The body cannot always stand up to the strains of a different mind Seb."

"What happens?" Sebastian asks because he has to know. He doesn't want to but if he can't do anything to stop it he doesn't deserve to be ignorant. "The person getting evicted. They get stuck in Laura's body?"

It's not a pleasant thought. No one should be stuck like that, not even Laura.

"No, they stay behind in the machine," Ruvik tilts his head and gives Sebastian the same intent look he gave the wires earlier. "That bothers you."

He sounds like he's laughing and Sebastian glares at him silently. Ruvik's lips quirk up in a smirk to match his amusement as he stalks forward. There's an almost animal grace to it that is at odds with the image he presents, and Sebastian wonders how the fuck he hadn't been creeped out more than he remembers being as the man circles halfway around him. Sebastian feels a lot like a mouse being played with by a fat cat. "You used to be a cop. What would you have done to me if you'd caught me before now?"

"Before or after I threw your ass in the back of a paddy wagon?" Sebastian crosses his arms over his chest and turns his head to meet Ruvik's gaze squarely. There's a bright fascination in his eyes, tempered by a cruel curiosity. He wonders if Ruvik was the kind of kid that pulled wings from flies for fun. "It doesn't matter anymore. You know damn well what I would have done. That's why you messed with my head, asshole. Quit poking around."

The knowledge of what Sebastian should do is there in his head, but the desire to actually follow through on it just isn't there. Not without a shit ton of pain. He's still stumbling over that lack, and doubts he'll get used to it.

Ruvik doesn't lose the cruel edge to his smile but turns to wander to a table. Picking something up and holding it out to him. "No, it doesn't matter. You're mine now and there are more important things to take care of."

The envelope is familiar and it takes Sebastian too long to recognize the scrawl when he takes it. "Cabrera. Jesus, you mean he's real?"

"Yes, a little reminder of my _place_ " Ruvik's smile is cold and mirthless as Sebastian pulls out the photos. "He's been paying attention."

The first recognizable face is his own. All the faces are Sebastian's as he flips through the stack. They're pictures of Sebastian in town, talking to Ella, outside the hospice, and several of him hunched over in the passenger seat of his car. Sprawled out in wrinkled clothing like a hobo and pulling on a cigarette like his life depended on it.

Flattering, really.

"They won't let him kill me just yet. I'm still too valuable," Ruvik says with a sneer, and Sebastian mentally tacks on a 'For now' to the end of that. He wonders if Cabrera even has a chance of laying a hand on Ruvik. Stupid thought to have because of course he can. The real question should be if Cabrera really wants to get hold of the man now.

It slots into place though. Had Ruvik's family been involved with Mobius on top of everything? The easy way Cabrera had been locked up and then released. Maybe even the way he's being supplied, because a camera and photo printing --by hand, because there's no development mark on any of the pictures-- costs money. Money that an escaped mental patient really shouldn't have access to.

"This is what you want me to do?" Sebastian asks when he puts the pictures away, tucking them into a back pocket. "Find Cabrera for you?"

"Find him," Ruvik agrees, ignoring the impatience that had leaked into Sebastian's voice. "Find him and _bring_ him to me."

Sebastian almost asks why, but the machine behind him is large. The wires and cables coming out of it everywhere in the room. He knows why Ruvik wants the man, and he doesn't need to hear confirmation.

"Fine, but I can't guarantee anything if this guy's as crazy as you all think he is," Sebastian will not promise to bring Cabrera in alive. Thoughts of just chasing him off flow through his mind quickly. A warning twinge ends them quickly though. 

"It's a preference, but you will do what you have to," Ruvik studies him a moment longer before turning away. "Your gun is in the bedroom upstairs."

It's a dismissal, and Sebastian takes it. His back itches and shoulders hunch from the missing weight of his gun he hadn't noticed until now. The faint smell of smoke follows him out.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe if I post shorter chapters I can actually make progress here.

Cabrera is a danger to more than just Ruvik. Sebastian stands by his first assessment of the man; easy to anger and likely off his rocker enough to not care who he's hurting. The fact that he's no longer the only psychopath around doesn't change jack shit. He remembers the photos of Laura, and knows the threat that had been implied in them. Without actually having met the man he's going to assume it was meant purposely and that Laura's life is in the balance here. Along with Valerio, the kid Leslie, and whoever else might be unlucky enough to walk by in the hospice. 

Cabrera is a danger and he needs to be taken care of. Somehow.

Sebastian flips through the photos again after getting his gun and ignores the looming question of what exactly he thinks he's going to do. He focuses in on calculating angles and lines of sight instead. The front of the building is surrounded by high brick walls and that gets him off his ass and out the front door.

His shoulder holster settles comfortably on him as he moves. The weight of the handgun comfortingly familiar as he paces through the woods around the wall. Eyes up and cursing every bush of thorns and dangling spider he doesn't avoid until he stumbles across a path. Too wide and clean looking for just animals to have been using it.

It winds around a bit before leading him to exactly what Sebastian had been expecting to find. A small wooden platform up in a sturdy looking tree with rungs nailed into the tree leading up it. They're sanded smooth and don't move under his weight as he hauls himself up.

The platform is bigger when he gets up on it. The wood is still rough and new enough looking that it can't have been in place for more than a month. Situated in the vee of two thick branches, a bench seat is built into it and doubles as storage. Sebastian lifts the seat and finds it's filled with bottles of water, a Ziploc bag of unused film, and a really expensive looking set of binoculars.

"Disorganized schizophrenic my ass," Sebastian mutters. The platform's built by hand to fit the tree and looks like something a professional would do. He doubts very much that Cabrera went out and asked someone to make it for him. The pictures, the spying. Like hell Cabrera is disorganized.

Or completely on his own. This shit costs money, and Sebastian knows where it's coming from.

He takes everything with him and walks back to his car, still parked where he remembers parking it last. He dumps everything in the trunk and dials the only number that's programmed in his new phone.

"Where's Cabrera?" Sebastian asks when the line clicks through and before Kidman can even take a breath. "And don't feed me a line of bull. A crazy fucker like him can't stay hidden without someone funding him. I want him off Ruvik's back before we transfer to Beacon."

The demand rips a little bit of him away even though it's easy to say. He shoves that thought away for later. Now isn't the time for it. Not when he's on the phone with the viper he'd taken in.

Kidman lets out a tense breath but doesn't bother playing around with stupid denials. "Are you going to kill him?"

"If I have to," which is a truth that Sebastian knows isn't a compulsion. Cop, PI, whatever the fuck he is now; some people are just too rabid to let live. He'll pull the trigger if the man makes him, and he's mostly sure the man will. "I want the real files on him, Kidman. Not whatever bullshit you've been selling to me!"

"There's a photography studio in town," Kidman eventually says after a long moment of silence. There's nothing in her voice at all. No emotion that Sebastian can read and that infuriates him quickly. All the anger he didn't feel before with Ruvik coming up and aiming itself at a new target. He should hang up and get back to figuring out what he's going to do with himself now. 

He should, but he doesn't. "How's Joseph?"

"Determined. He's tearing the city apart," Kidman huffs and there's a trace of amusement there that makes Sebastian's gut clench. Joseph would go to her in his search, no doubt about that. He'll bring her into it not suspecting a damn thing until it's too late, just like Sebastian did.

"Sebastian, did you give him your notes?" Kidman asks. What friendliness --vague as it was-- is gone now and Sebastian isn't talking to Kidman. He's talking to Mobius.

He doesn't hesitate to think or plan. He snorts derisively over the line. "And ruin his life too? Those files were my cross to carry. Go fuck yourself Kidman, the notes are long gone."

It's empty bravado and he has no doubt that she doesn't believe him. They'll keep tabs on Joseph and work on getting her even deeper into his good graces no matter what he says. He'll make them doubt their theory though. Make them jump at shadows and look all over for the next little annoyance to pop up with those notes.

"They're not that bad, you know," Kidman says with a weary sigh. Trying to sound like the assistant he'd almost thought he'd figured out. "They value loyalty and hard work. They're not like your old workplace at all. You can make a home with us, Sebastian."

"Before or after I burn someone's little girl to death and kill their wife?" Sebastian spits out, and he revels in the anger. He wants to get in his car and drive back to Krimson, to show Kidman what it's like to choke on smoke and screams you can't block out. Kidman wisely keeps quiet so that all Sebastian can hear is the raggedness of his own breath echoing back through the phone. "Tell your bosses they're fucking lucky I'm broken and don't have any choice anymore."

"Goodbye, Sebastian," Kidman says. Firm and unyielding, giving nothing else away at all.

The line cuts out and the phone snaps in half when he throws it. Both parts skittering and scraping along the uneven stones that make up the front walk. The violent action doesn't help ease the rage in him and Sebastian closes his eyes and curses.

~

It makes sense, when Sebastian stops growling curses at the ruined phone. 

The studio was in the reports he'd pulled and he'd thought of checking it out before, but the owner had never pegged him as the type to willingly print off pictures of mutilated animals and sleeping coma patients.

The key word there being _willingly_. Sebastian wonders if the photographer is still there in his studio, or if he's dead too.

He makes his way back inside and it's not until he's in a small, sterile room that he thinks to wonder why his feet took him inside. The studio is his next stop but Sebastian follows a faint compulsion that doesn't make sense until he opens a drawer in a cabinet that looks like it came straight from a hospital.

Needles line the drawer and Sebastian has the feeling he's used them before. They feel familiar when he runs his fingers over them and picks one up. The plastic crinkles and he reaches to the right automatically. Memory trickles in as he swings open a small fridge and plucks out a clear vial of something.

_Ruvik hisses out a number and Sebastian takes out the requested amount. The needle is sharp and he watches in slight wonder as it pierces the man's pale skin easily. Not through the scar tissue that lines the bend of the inner elbow, but just below it. Into the vivid blue of a vein marked with scars from a lifetime of injections._

Sebastian finds Ruvik in the upstairs library. A resting room for the man because nothing in the room really interests him. Ruvik is hunched over the ridiculous desk. Hands flat on the surface and eyes closed as he tries to stave off what's coming. Sebastian's watched this happen before while he was under deep, and he knows what to do.

He remembers the sound of Ruvik's voice talking him through it, and the motion of drawing the drug from the vial is as natural as lighting up a cigarette. 

Ruvik doesn't flinch back or make a sound when Sebastian pulls his arm up and out. Pushing the ragged sleeves back to find the veins underneath. There's a hint of curiosity in the man's eyes when he opens them to watch, but that goes out fast. The pain is hitting him hard. Even with the drug to counter some of it, Ruvik isn't going to be doing or thinking of anything for the next hour or two. At least it wasn't a seizure this time.

_"I'm vulnerable," Ruvik's eyes narrow in distaste at the admittance._

Sebastian backs out of the room without saying a word. The echo of those words ringing clearly in his mind as Ruvik settles back in the chair to deal with the pain. He's heard them more than once, and it hits him now exactly _how_ vulnerable the man is. Between the migraines and the seizures it's a wonder that Ruvik manages to get anything done.

The fact that what he does get done is so very bloody and evil drains a lot of the awe that Sebastian feels at the realization. It also brings back the importance of finding Cabrera. 

Ruvik's vulnerable far too much, and Cabrera will eventually take advantage. Mobius orders be damned.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I found some of chapter 21 written down. I spliced part of it in to expand the conversation with Kidman if you want to go back and re-read that. Nothing else was changed in chapter 21. The rest of the written chunk works much better in a later chapter.

The studio is right across the street from the hospice.

It's not like there's a whole lot of places in town that'd be far from the hospice. It's not that big of a place. The fact it's right there though pisses him off just a little. Especially if he thinks about Cabrera peeking out through the windows any of the times he's been around.

Sebastian squints at the cheery looking house as he walks up to it slowly. One eye watching for any movement in the windows or yard, and the other looking around the suspiciously empty neighborhood. It's way too quiet today, and that's setting off every alarm he has.

Where's the nosy neighbors? The gossipy, busybodies he had seen so many times before? He doubts his sticking around for so long has made him any less of a novelty for them. Not when it's got to be clear he's working for Ruvik somehow.

The lack of an audience unsettles him, but it makes circling around to the back of the studio to break in easy. There's no one around to ask why he's picking the lock, and that's a rarity in his line of work. He tries to appreciate it even as the hairs on the back of his neck stand up under eyes he knows aren't there.

He almost reaches for his destroyed cell phone on instinct when he gets the door open and steps inside. Calling Joseph or Kidman to let them know where he is in case things go bad has been standard procedure for so long that it takes conscious effort not to do it.

The house is silent and still in a way that only happens when there's no one living in it. It’s a familiar feeling from a few of his cases, abandoned homes have a distinct air about them that he can feel. Sebastian still takes it slow going in, because it’s always possible to be wrong. His gun is a reassuring weight as he checks each of the sparsely decorated rooms. Not going through drawers or boxes just yet, but looking under the furniture and in the closets.

Any place a body can hide. Living or not.

The kitchen is bare. Lots of boxed foods, but nothing in the fridge which sticks when he opens it and smells like stale air. There’s a layer of dust on most things that’s thicker in some places than n others. Cobwebs have started taking up the corners of some rooms, and Sebastian nearly walks face first into a big, fat spider that’s spun its web across the doorway to the bathroom.

There's nothing out of place that he can see. Nothing strange that he can hear. Not even a bad or musty smell. None of the usual things to validate what his instinct is screaming at him. That he's in a place with a corpse and not just snooping around the home of a guy who took off for an extended cruise.

There's no second floor. Just a little entrance for an attic that he eyes for a minute before moving over to the stairs that go down. The basement is easier to access, and it doesn't look like the trap door in the ceiling has been disturbed in a while going by the dusty cobwebs spanning one corner of it.

The stairs that lead down into the basement are wide and open in a way that he’s not used to when dealing with basements. It’s probably where the business part of the studio is. He can feel the change in the air almost immediately when going down.

The air isn’t as stale or still even though he’s going down into nearly complete blackness. It takes his eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness. Dim because as he carefully makes his way down he can see some light. Red light that doesn’t illuminate any details, but lets him see the long hallway he’s in.

The light comes from the end where there’s an open door and what looks like a window in the wall. Sebastian looks at it for a while but the light is steady. There’s no flickering or shadows to indicate someone is in the room moving around. He steps up to the outline of a nearby doorway first, but the door opens only a fraction of an inch before sticking. He can feel boards spaced pretty evenly on the other side, and there’s a thick grit on his fingers when he pulls them back. A combination of dust and dirt.

He wipes it off on his coat, probably leaving a streak behind and turns his attention all on the room ahead. He slips his gun out, and automatically thumbs off the safety. He counts his footsteps and strains to listen as he approaches. The sound of his own blood running through his veins is all he can hear though as he edges up to the window that’s lit up like something from the end of the world.

It’s covered with a thin curtain that’s seen better days, and through the rips in it he can catch a glimpse of the room behind it. It’s clear that the room is larger than he was first thinking, and that there’s a few blind areas. There’s the hard edge of a corner, a wall that he can’t see beyond.

Not the worst place he’s had to clear, but he’d had backup for those other ones. Even when the backup had only been a message left on Joseph’s phone to bail his ass out if he didn’t call back in ten minutes.

The door sounds like a scream when he presses against it, and Sebastian grimaces. There’s no hiding he’s here so he shoves the door open and wastes no time stepping into the room. He scans it over the sites of his gun, but nothing moves even when the door slams against the wall with a bang. It takes him a while to make any sense out of the mess he's seeing.

The place is set up like a living room. Comfortable and inviting even with the props littering the place and stacked up in the corners. It’s the wall though that has his attention and pulls him up short. It’s lit up with a small lamp with a regular bulb. The only place that he can see any significant details, and it stops him even as he knows he’s got to check behind that doorway in the corner.

The wall is covered in small and large pictures. Familiar places and faces, unfamiliar places and faces. All tacked onto the wall in a mess that almost looks like it should make sense. Like there’s a pattern under it that dictates where each one goes.

Ruvik is prominent. His form always still and pale looking, isolated no matter how many other people are in the picture. Sebastian sees a few more pictures of himself in the same style as the ones that had shown up in the mail. They thread through and under the section that's mostly Ruvik, before spilling down to take up a chunk of wall near the floor. New pictures mostly, and quite a few that were clearly taken back in Krimson before this whole mess began. Long before he knew the name Victoriano.

There's even one of Joseph and Kidman together that he can't put a date on, and Sebastian has to check the urge to rip it apart because it brings up another worry for him. He’s given Joseph so much shit about Kidman, and pressured the guy to make a move on her. Tried to get them together. Before he knew about her true loyalties, and now....

Now isn’t the time to worry about that. It’s possible never may be the time.

Sebastian turns away from the pictures. The proof that someone has been hanging out around here is clear from the subjects, but the room isn’t secure just yet.

The door in the corner is sectioned off by a curtain, and there’s a red spotlight lighting it up. The picture developing room. Sebastian almost relaxes as he turns into it, eyes taking in the overly crowded part hidden from view, until movement near the floor sends his heart racing as he draws down on it. On the person sitting on the floor.

“Leslie,” Sebastian sighs and relaxes, pointing his gun down and away from the curled up figure of the boy. His heart still pounds a mile a minute though, because it could very easily not have been the kid. It could have been Cabrera, waiting for Sebastian to stare at his wall of obsession like an _idiot_. “Fuck kid, what are you doing here? This isn’t a safe place for you.”

“Safe place, safe place,” Leslie repeats as he looks up at Sebastian. Eyes wide open in the dim light, and his hands moving rhythmically. A verbal and physical tic that’s probably part of whatever it is that’s wrong with him. He doesn’t look hurt this time though. The bruise on his face is gone. Faded with time. “No safe place, no safe place, no place. No safe place for _you_!”

Christ if that isn’t the truth. Sebastian holsters his gun and takes the time to make sure the safety strap is in place before crouching down before the kid. He holds one hand out but doesn’t touch the kid just yet. Leaves it out as an offering instead. “No kidding, come on. Neither of us should be here right now. Let’s get out of here, alright?”

“Alright, alright, alright,” Leslie mutters, and maybe he says a few more things. Sebastian can’t quite catch them as he shoots up to his feet. Nimble and spry like anyone his age should be. He shuffles away and pauses to watch Sebastian push his way to his feet with some effort. “Go? Can we go to the train and go home?”

“Sure,” Sebastian cautiously places a hand on the kids back, and doesn’t get his face punched in for it. It’s happened before when he found a missing kid with some mental problems. One of which made him very violent when people got touchy feely with him. Not the worst problem to have but he’s always been careful since then to take things slowly in cases like this. “Whatever train you want kid.”

Leslie is relaxed enough to go whatever direction Sebastian pushes him in. Happy going by the small smile on his face, and the soft humming that’s occasionally interrupted by single words about trains. Sebastian almost feel guilty about the fact that the only train in the kid’s future is probably going to be that magazine, but this place is not safe for the kid to hang around in.

Cabrera isn’t here now, but Sebastian doesn’t think that matters much at the moment. He glances back as they leave the room and sees a large storage freezer he hadn’t noticed before. Covered by a carelessly tossed sheet, and ominous because it’s the newest looking thing in the room and he doubts the old man who owns the place bought it himself. “Let’s go, kid.”

~

“Leslie!” If Valerio is the least bit apprehensive about seeing Sebastian it all disappears under the relief he shows as he moves surprisingly quickly for a guy his size. “We were all so worried, Leslie! Where have you been?”

“Across the street,” Sebastian answers as Leslie does nothing but stare at his own hands. There’s no nervousness there, but there’s also no acknowledgement of where he is either. The humming had stopped when they left the studio and he’s been mostly silent. “I found him in the photographer’s house when I went to go ask about something.”

“Renard? But he’s been gone on a trip to England since May,” Valerio pats at Leslie. Gentle, careful gestures that look to be a combination of reassuring and checking at the same time. “How on Earth did he get in there?”

“The door was open,” Sebastian lies and wonders how the hell the kid did get in. Nothing was opened or unlocked when he cased the place out. “I thought it was kind of weird so....”

“Oh, Leslie,” Valerio sighs, accepting the load of bullshit at face value. He fusses over the kid a bit, and generally gives off the impression of an overly distracted father. A heartwarming image that Sebastian can’t quite fully buy into for all that is seems genuine in this case. “You know Mr. Renard is a very busy man. He can’t play with you like he used to, alright? Especially not when he’s gone away!”

“Gone away, gone, gone, gone,” Leslie says softly. Mournfully. It sends creeping fingers of dread up Sebastian’s spine.

“How long did Mr. Renard say he was leaving for?” Sebastian asks.

“Oh, about five or six months, I suppose,” Valerio blinks and looks over at Sebastian as if he had no idea who he was talking to the whole time. “I’m not really sure. He sent a note over but I don’t exactly recall what it said. Was there something you needed, Detective?”

There’s a questioning note in his voice that Sebastian’s pretty sure is more for the title than anything else. Sebastian ignores it and takes a step back out the door he came in. “Nothing that can’t wait. Just something about some pictures that came from his studio. Thought now would be a good time to catch him since the town is so quiet, but obviously that’s not possible.”

“Well it is Sunday, Detective,” Valerio says patiently, eyes already straying back to Leslie. “Most of the people are at church.”

News to Sebastian, but his head has been so fucked up that he’s probably lucky he knows it’s daytime. “Really? Even with the Pastor missing? It looked like they’d locked the church up.”

“You’ve been to the church?” That gets him Valerio’s gaze again. Surprised and more than just a touch wary this time. “The presence of a man of god has never been a deterrent to the people of the town. They are very religious as a rule, and will attend to their prayers despite not having someone to lead them.”

There’s a hesitation around certain phrases that makes it clear that Valerio doesn’t consider himself one of the religious sort. It’s the kind of careful wording a man uses to not incite an argument about religion. Odd that he’s using it just to talk in general about the church. A hidden pillar of the community, that promises some really odd things to its faithful. Sebastian remembers what Ruvik said about the church and he's starting to think it might not have all been just bullshit.

Sebastian reaches for his pack of cigarettes and taps it a bit before shaking one out. He doesn’t reach for his lighter, just twirls it around his fingers like he’s going to light up as soon as he’s out the door. A relaxed and, hopefully, nonthreatening gesture. “Ruben,” it takes effort to say the name now that he has the real one etched into his mind, “showed it to me. His parents were devout supporters I’m told. Not so much for him. Can’t blame him, I’m not the type to put much stock in stories.”

“No,” there’s an easing in Valerio. A touch of fondness as well as tiredness entering him. “Ruben has always been a man of science, and our kind don’t exactly mesh well with religious doctrine,” Valerio turns his head in a not very subtle gesture of checking out who is in hearing range. “Especially not the more, ah, _irrational_ ones.”

"You mean more irrational than usual?" Sebastian quips and is rewarded with a wry smile from Valerio. "Ruben said some things about immortality or something. You telling me that's true?"

"Yes, quite true I'm afraid. Well, I'm sure that he knows far better than I what goes on there," Valerio steps back. A physical separation between them and he settles one hand firmly on Leslie's shoulder. "Thank you for returning Leslie to us. We've been so very worried for him. Now I must call the Sheriff to let him know the boy is alright. If you'll excuse me, Detective?"

And he's dismissed. Sebastian nods and backs out of the main door. Watching as Valerio leans down to talk reassuringly to Leslie, and lead him deeper into the hospice. He lets the door shut before tucking the cigarette away. He hasn't really been craving them as much, only lighted up the one he smoked on the way to town by habit.

The trip in has left him with a whole load of nothing. Just like every other lead he's tried to follow. He feels like he's spinning in circles. Getting nowhere even as he learns more and gets sucked deeper into it all. There's too many loose ends. Too many things that could be connected but he doesn't know enough to make those connections. Not yet.

Sebastian doesn't like the feeling of being a passive observer in this. He brushes out a streak of dust from his coat and looks around the empty neighborhood before looking back at the studio.

"Fuck this shit," Sebastian pauses at his car for a set of gloves and heads back inside the house.

~

He was careful to touch nothing when he came in, and even took longer on the lock than he needed to. Now though, he needs to really search.

He goes straight for the freezer.

It's brand fucking new and still has the stickers on it from the store along with the receipt for delivery. It's not in Renard's name, nor in Cabrera's. Sebastian doesn't put any stock in it other than to note the date is in May. He clears off the top. Heavy things mostly that don't even look like they belong in the basement. He grunts as he has to put some force into prying the lid open when it's clear. 

Ice cracks and fragments fall out as he manages to force the top open past the blockage. A massive clustering of ice is mounded in one corner, and Sebastian doesn't need a white light to know what's under it. He knows the outline of a body when he sees one. Wrapped in something white and freezer burned.

Renard won't be coming back from his vacation.

"Christ," he stares down at the old man for a minute before reaching down for one of the decorative concrete statues that had been on top and jams it back between the lid so it stays propped open. The freezer gives out a faint whine when he yanks the cord. The internal system chugging to a slow stop that's going to take a few days for the frozen body to catch up with. It'll be several more before the smell of it will make someone come in to look. Maybe longer, but they will find him.

He tosses the room then, finding the switch for the main lights and getting the brighter white lights on to help. 

Most of what he finds are pictures, and rolls of undeveloped film. Receipts for food and supplies lay all around the room. Nothing unusual about them but that they were all paid with Renard's credit cards after May. There's maps too. Of the area and the state in general. A few printouts of the Victoriano estate with marks that match up to what Sebastian can see from the camera angles. One of the hospice, and even a few of the church that Sebastian folds up into a pocket.

There's no signs that Cabrera sleeps down there or even lives there. A planning area and developing studio, but most of what Sebastian sees is just trash. Discarded things that aren't important to Cabrera. He's staying somewhere else and Sebastian has an idea where for once. He stuffs most of it into a black trash bag. All the maps and pictures. The negatives he finds in an empty shoe box --size 9 outdoor boots-- and he shoves them in before pulling down the picture wall. Making sure to get every single picture with a recognizable face before tying the bag up. 

He looks over to the freezer before leaving but there's nothing else he can do for the dead man.


End file.
